


The Great Wolf

by Kynralei_Lavellan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Smut, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:51:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 35,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3339353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kynralei_Lavellan/pseuds/Kynralei_Lavellan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan follows a great white wolf into the woods, and is knocked backward in time - alone. She discovers quickly that Fen'Harel is not the god her people had made him out to be. Some fluff here, some smut there, updating weekly as schedule permits. I adored the idea of Fen'Harel with dreads and an elvhen god...I had to run with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Great Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> All Dragon Age things belong to BioWare, I'm just enjoying having fun with their characters xD

“The orb…” Solas brokenly said, as he held the largest fragment of the now-shattered foci in his palm. His shoulders were slumped forward, defeated. Pharen stepped carefully over the rubble, being mindful not to break him out of his reverie. Once she stood near enough to touch him, she laid a hand on his shoulder, speaking softly to him. “I’m so sorry, Solas. I tried to keep it close but Corypheus…the Breach…I had to send him back…I-I guess I got a little carried away…” Pharen stared down at the man on his knees before her, his aura full of sorrow and regret. She attempted to brush his aura with hers, in hopes that he would at least rise from his knees, only for him to shrink away from her, his demeanor remaining unchanged.

  
“It was not supposed to happen this way.” Solas got to his feet and turned to her, his eyes full of remorse. “I promised you answers, Pharen. Answers, I am afraid, that will remain unspoken. One day, I hope you will forgive me for what I have done.” His broken voice brought so many feelings to the surface for her. She longed to reach out to him, to hold him, to tell him whatever it is she did, she would fix, no matter what. She wasn’t, however, expecting what he said next. “Whatever happens, know that what we had was real.”

  
“Sol-“ Pharen began, only to be interrupted by the Seeker frantically calling for her. Bloody, battle-worn, and out of breath, Seeker Cassandra reached the top of the battlements where Pharen and Solas stood. “Inquisitor! I’m so thankful you’re alive!” Cassandra hugged her friend tightly, only to realize a moment later that the Inquisitor did not return it. “Inquis - Pharen? Are you all right?” Cassandra softened her worried expression, albeit slightly. The concerned Seeker retained hold of Pharen’s slouched shoulders, but moved back, so as to inspect her properly, to ensure she had not been gravely wounded. Satisfied, the Seeker embraced her friend once more, holding her close.

  
Pharen gently disentangled herself from her friend, and looked around for her Solas. He was nowhere to be found. Pharen had an overwhelming sense of "wrong", though did not know what. As she backed away from her friend, turning only slightly towards the woods, she felt her stomach drop in fear at what she thought she glimpsed in the tree line. Looking down into the freshly-fallen snow, she could barely make out what appeared to be giant paw prints. "Paw prints?" Her train of thought was abruptly stopped as an ethereal yet mournful howl resounded within her very soul. The Inquisitor dared a glance at the forest once more, to confirm what she thought she saw, to be met by a great white wolf with blue eyes, standing out against the black of the trees. As she watched, the wolf once again howled its mournful tune, almost beckoning her to console it.

  
She couldn’t help herself. She knew someone was calling her name, yet was deaf to it. She realized the temperature was dropping, yet was numb to it. Her fingers reached towards the wolf, with its ears perked forward, fluffy tail lying contentedly by its side, watching her. Though as she dared closer, the alpha began to back away, its ears no longer perked with interest, but going backwards with every step she took. Pharen stopped, very near to it. Dropping her hand limply at her side and collapsed to her knees before the wolf. Through tears, she looked up at it through dark eyelashes, “Are you who I think you are? Are you the one who stole my Solas from me? Dirth ma, harellan!”

  
She glanced up at the great wolf, who was now eyeing her appraisingly. A soft snarl above her head let her know the wolf was not backing down. The behemoth animal drew close to her, its cold nose barely touching her forehead. Suddenly, a low growl emanated from the creature, its hackles raising, and it began to back away from the lone elf. Pharen cautiously looked up, and saw its piercing blue eyes glance down, then away, as it began to pad away from her, deeper into the forest. Pharen got up, slowly, staring at where the wolf had gone. She turned away, debating on whether she should walk back to her waiting friends or to follow her instincts. She began to walk back to her companion, when she felt a tug at the veil. "I’m not casting. Who’s casting?" Her eyes going wide at the realization of a powerful mage being nearby, possibly even a Venatori spellbinder. She turned on her heel and sprinted into the woods, not hearing the calls from her companions to come back. Pharen felt intense guilt at breaking the foci, but it was all too odd that a wolf would show up in place of her Solas. As she sprinted after the white wolf, she turned to her rage at Solas for abandoning her on the battlefield, with not even a goodbye. Even though her lungs stung with each inhale of the frigid air, she fueled herself forward, hoping she was gaining on the massive animal.

  
Pharen slowed her sprint down to a near-crawl as she reached the heart of the forest. As she scanned her surroundings, she realized there was a soft glow being emitted from not far ahead of her. She began to walk toward it, using the fallen snow to move stealthily through this unknown stretch of woods. As she pushed a few branches out of the way, she came to a clearing with two very large howling wolf statues in the center, and what looked to be an activated eluvian in the center. Pharen slowly approached it, glancing up at the two statues, their jeweled eyes seeming to watch her as she drew close to the mirror. It was then that she heard a soft growl behind her; she quickly became the hunted.

  
“Who are you? Why must you call to me? Is this yours? Did you intentionally lead me here, knowing I’d feel the pull of the Veil? Especially after just taking out Corypheus? Tell me!” Her last words were a shout at the great wolf, and its deafening snarl as it leapt toward her was the last thing she heard before she fell backward and blacked out.


	2. My little present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> da'enansal - little gift

She awoke alone on a stone floor in a room with a marbled statue of Fen’Harel. At first, she had scooted back in shock, thinking the wolf from before was finally going to claim its prey, but calmed upon realizing it was only a statue. "Where in the literal Void am I?" This wasn’t Skyhold. She shakily stood on both feet, making her way around what she could only assume was an altar of some sort, to the trickster Fen’Harel.

  
Pharen scarcely heard the door opening behind her as she stood in awe of the marbled beast. When she turned around, she expected to see Dorian, his arms outstretched and wearing a grin, or even Iron Bull, with a cask of the latest liquor he’d found; what she didn’t expect, however, was Solas walking through the door. "Is that my Solas? He looks so…different," she thought. Different was an understatement. He had long reddish-brown dreadlocks cascading down his shoulder with one of the sides of his head shaven, his skin was sun-kissed in a way that let her know he’d never missed a day outside. He wore robes, but not like he wore the last she saw him; he wore robes that were enchanted and embroidered with the finest of cloths, the colors vibrant but not overly so. Underneath the robes-Oh Creators. She realized, too late, that she was staring. He was speaking a language she did not understand, his arms were crossed, and his eyebrow was now raised appraisingly, a cross between being amused and highly annoyed.

  
She cast her eyes down and away from the godlike sight before her. She worried at her lower lip and placed her hands behind her back, a trait she learned from Solas, and blushed slightly, embarrassed and unsure. With her head bowed to him, she heard a rustle of movement. Being fairly certain she and this…man were alone, she hazarded a glance up at him, and was surprised to find his face mere inches from her own. “Dirth ma.” He was close enough to her that their breaths nearly mingled, his eyes narrowed in suspicion; she hated that she was blushing and unable to make eye contact, to someone who looked identical to her lost love. She finally found her voice, small as it was. “Tell you what? How I got here? What my name is? I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Solas! I woke up here!” The anger in her last statement was unwarranted, but she was beginning to feel fear creeping up her spine.

  
The Anchor flashed warningly in her hand, which drew his gaze immediately to it, then to her. Without warning, he grabbed her hand, and drew a rune across it, causing Pharen to hiss in pain. His eyes narrowed on the mark, and drew his index finger across it once more, while whispering in that same language she did not recognize. She felt a faint pop in her hand, and she let out a string of curses. Once finished, she looked apologetically up at the man, who had his eyebrows raised in faint amusement.  
“Do you understand me now?” The man asked curiously. Pharen sputtered in disbelief. That voice. She’d know that voice anywhere. Suddenly not trusting what could possibly come out of her mouth, she instead nodded mutely. “Good. Now, you can tell me three things. One, why do you call me Pride? Two, why do you have a portion of my foci in your hand? And how did you break into my temple when you’re very clearly not marked by me? Or are you?” His eyes narrowed accusingly, his voice very near a growl, as though he was struggling to contain his temper. He canted his head to one side, looking very much like a predator that had cornered its prey.

  
“One, Solas is the name I know you by. Two, this is yours?!” She felt her magic brimming to the surface, fire licking at her fingertips. He did this. Solas caused the breach. All those people died because of him. Her anger was bubbling very close to the surface now, the fire nearly consuming her. “And what do you mean ‘broke into your temple’? If you’re not Solas, then who are you?!” Pharen attempted to back away to try and calm herself, only to be met by a very solid barrier at her back. His lips curved into what she could only describe as a feral grin; she’d yet to have seen any kind of look like that on Solas. “Tell me, da’enansal, who stalks the Fade while the People enjoy their slumber?” He paused, but not long enough to give her time to respond. "Who creeps in like a thief in the night, without any sign or warning? Who is able to manipulate the very fabric of magic? What god are you standing before?" He implored her, his mouth curled upwards in a sneer. This was not Solas.

  
“N-No, you’re not…that’s impossible…” she stuttered and then stopped, her breathing hitched. His grin only grew wider as he advanced toward her, albeit slowly. That feral smile was not one of amusement, however; it was a grin that said she was quite literally, backed against a wall. Once he reached her, he brought one finger under her chin to draw her face upwards to his own. It was only then that she felt the so-familiar trinket cut into her chest as he pressed himself closer to her. He released her chin to whisper into her ear, causing her to shudder involuntarily. “I am Fen’Harel, da’enansal.”

  
Fen’Harel withdrew, his smug grin still very much in place, and waited for her response. Pharen shuddered once more, this time not from his closeness, but from the sheer power she now felt coming off of him in waves, his aura filling the dark chamber they stood in. She cleared her throat, unwilling to upset him any further than she already, however unintentionally, had. “You're not Fen'harel. Fen'Harel does not exist. He was a trickster god who betrayed the pantheon!" Pharen found her voice, and began advancing toward this so-called Fen'Harel. "My name is Pharen Lavellan, of the Dalish Lavellan Clan. The year is 9:42 Dragon.” She glared up at him, only to find him glaring at her in return. With a wave of his hand, she was slung against the wall, in a prison of fade energy. Fen'Harel quickly advanced towards her, stopping within inches of her, a cold glare plastered blatantly on his face. “I am uncertain as to how you got here, da’enansal, but I assure you, I will discover it. You speak a language that is not common here, and are no slave.”

  
Pharen shook underneath his calculating glare. A fierce growl began to build in her throat, somehow managing to find courage where she should have none, especially in the face of a proven god. She spat in his face, and narrowed her eyes. "You will discover shit, trickster. You have taken something very dear to me and I will be the one discovering how the hell you brought me here." Fen'harel's eyebrows barely rose. "You will be forced into submission yet da'len. You should be thankful that I found you and not any of the darker entities here...they grow very ravenous for blood aftera battle." Pharen's breath hitched, and she did not dare meet his piercing gaze again. Fen'Harel chuckled darkly. "Maybe I should make you my playtoy? Maybe I should let the sentinels have you for breaking into my sacred temple? Or maybe," he approached her once more and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I should feed you to my wolves." With that, Pharen was released from the prison he had put her in, falling ungracefully to the stone floor. She knew better than to challenge him again. As she kept her head down, she heard the door open and shut, and a soft hum of magical energy coming from the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see any errors (grammatical or giant plotholes) please point them out to me.


	3. I might have played a trick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharen finds herself stuck

     “Come, da’enansal, if you are here, then there must be a reason why. In the meantime, I will assign guards to ensure you do not wander off on your own.” The last part was bitten out sternly, as if to inform her of dire consequences should she decide not to heed his unspoken warning. Pharen blindly followed Fen’Harel, head down, only nodding or shaking her head when necessary. Suddenly, he stopped, causing Pharen to run into his very solid frame. He gave a small huff of annoyance; whether it was aimed at her for not paying attention or just in general, she couldn’t be certain.

     He had halted their tracks in front of a giant and runed obsidian door. There were two eternally howling wolf statues carved on either side of the door, veilfire spouting from their open mouths. Fen’Harel deactivated whatever locking mechanism that was holding the door shut, and he stepped away so Pharen could walk ahead of him into the chamber. “After you,” he said, his head inclining toward the now-opened door.

     What she saw was beyond anything she had ever imagined. The front of the room had been painted in all sorts of frescos, most depicting wolves or dragons; some others had battle scenes smeared with dark red paint over the figures in them. Toward the back of the room sat an impressive throne: one behemoth six-eyed wolf lying down on the stone floor, its ears perked forward in attention. Along its back there appeared to be spikes-no-elven ears, as if defending them from some unknown danger. The Great Wolf. She now had no doubt in her mind whose temple she was in. She also had no doubt that that very wolf stood next to her, now.

     She stepped toward the throne, nearly enthralled by it, and wanting a closer inspection. She stopped in her tracks when she felt the hand at her shoulder, leading her away from the giant wolf and toward a room off to the side she hadn’t even initially noticed. Fen’Harel unlocked that door as well, and once more stepped aside so she could go ahead of him. She walked inside yet another impressive room, though not nearly as large as the one she had just exited. There were yet more wolves painted on the wolves, all howling toward the ceiling, which, she now realized, was painted very much like an area in the fade. The green paint with the emerald metals in the roof nearly took her breath away.

     Fen’Harel cleared his throat, drawing her attention back onto him. “This is where you will be for the remainder of your stay. Should you require anything, let the guard outside know.” With that, he turned on his heel, striding away from the door. His aura was immediately replaced by that of two armor-clad sentinels, whose power she did not want to question. She had seen what they were capable of in the Temple of Mythal; their arrows never missing, and she wasn’t entirely sure these two were archers. One had a longsword attached to his back, the other had no visible weapons, but she was willing to guess that he was either a mage like herself, or had a dagger or two stowed away in the skin-tight armor he was wearing.

     The two sentinels nodded to her in acknowledgement before shutting and locking her inside the room Fen’Harel had given her. Pharen sighed, resigned to her fate inside the stone walls. She began to really look at her new surroundings, enthused by the frescos on the walls. She lay down on the plush red and black bed in her room and stared up at the ceiling, watching the green materials glow every now and again. She realized then that it wasn’t just that they were glowing; they were moving. Just like in the fade, the eerie green haze that was always shrouding dreams was shrouding this very ceiling.

     It did not take long for her to fall prey to the Fade here, watching the green haze flow like waves over the paintings on the walls. Once there, she thought she may give a try to find Solas in the Fade. Actual Solas. Preferably not Fen’Harel. That would be…awkward. She tried to envision Solas’s hut in Haven; she used to always be able to find him there and they would talk all night about things he’d seen in the Fade. Once everything was in place, and she stood in the snow before his door, she reached toward it, only to find to her dismay that there was no door handle. The door would not open. Confused, she tried again to envision just the hut alone, with a faint hope that her Solas was inside.

     This time she succeeded, but when she opened the door, there was nothing there. No roaring fire in the fireplace, no ancient Elvhen books scattered on the floor, and no Solas. Annoyed but not yet finished trying to find him, she bent the fade to her will once more. This time though, something told her to envision those dark woods where she had found the white wolf watching her. Pharen focused on the forest, remembering each detail quite easily, considering the difficulty she had trying to find Solas’s hut.

     She looked around the dark forest, and once more found the light slightly ahead of her. As she moved toward it this time, however, she tripped and fell over an upturned root in a great tree. Pharen yelped a little bit in surprise, not having that happen the last time she visited this place. She sat down, realizing her foot was indeed caught in the root, and tried to wrench it free, but it would not budge. She kept trying harder each time, trying get her foot free, but each time it seemed more difficult.

     Pharen was beginning to feel helpless, and felt even more so when she heard a faint growl from the woods. She stopped struggling for a moment, listening carefully to her surroundings. Hearing nothing, and passing it off as a trick of the mind, she continued to attempt to get her foot free. Growing exhausted, and the root now trapped over her ankle, she stayed put, not willing to exert more energy than she already had. She laid back, trying to see through the canopy when she heard another growl, closer this time, followed by a howl she had heard only once before. The Great Wolf.

     She sat up alertly, scanning the forest around her. Finding nothing, she gave a small huff of annoyance and lay back down on the forest floor. When she laid her head down, however, she landed on something very large and very fluffy. Oh, Creators did I really- her train of thought was cut off as she looked up into the six-eyed beast that she’d seen as Fen’Harel’s throne. Pharen tried to scream, tried to get away, and remembered she couldn’t. She watched in horror as the great beast sat back on his haunches, growling and snarling at her, but not getting any closer. “Wh-what do you want with me? I d-don’t mean you any harm! I-I was just trying to find S-Solas!.”

     Pharen’s voice shook as she addressed the wolf, feeling a little silly but simultaneously knowing that the wolf understood her. The growling stopped, as did the snarling, but she could still see very sharp teeth jutting out of its mouth. The monster then did something incredible. It began to actually laugh at her! She watched as the haunches turned into legs and feet, the ears turned into elven ears, and the fur changed color and shrunk down to Fen’Harel’s hair. She sat, slack-jawed, staring at the transformation. Apparently she had stared and been immersed in not-too-friendly thoughts for too long, for the Dread Wolf himself was now seated across from her on the forest floor, grinning smugly. “I thought, in the Fade, I would be able to tell if you were lying to me. Things have always been easier for me in the Fade, so I thought this would be too.”

     He looked down at her, his eyes narrowed in deep thought. “Show me something you know from your mind.” Pharen looked at him curiously, but humored him nonetheless. She closed her eyes and screwed up her face in concentration, focusing on Haven before Corypheus attacked, seeing in her mind’s eye Solas’s hut once more. If Solas was truly Fen’Harel, his reaction would tell her all she needed to know, once he saw himself in the future. When she opened her eyes, the Fade had warped itself into exactly how she remembered her first stop in the Inquisition. She looked to Fen’Harel, his eyes curiously roving over the new surroundings.

     “Where is this?” He asked her curiously. “You’ll see,” she replied cryptically. Fen’Harel furrowed his brows but said nothing in response. No sooner had she gotten the words out of her mouth than the door of the hut opened, with Solas standing in the doorway. Though Fen’Harel said nothing, the look of surprise that crossed his features could not be denied. He recognized himself. Once over the initial shock, he finally stated only one word: “Enough.”

     The dream faded as quickly as she had summoned it, and they were once again on the forest floor, and she was once again caught in the root trap. Looking as though he had come to a realization, Fen’Harel stood, holding his hand out to her. “Come, there is something I must show you.” Pharen’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why? Where are you taking me? And besides, I can’t get up anyway; my foot’s stuck.” She bowed her head to him, color flushing her cheeks in embarrassment that she’d been caught by a mere root. “My apologies, da’enansal. I did not mean for it to get that…out of hand,” he said, smirking. With a wave of his hand, the root released her. Pharen sputtered in disbelief.

     “You! You did that on purpose!” Fen’Harel’s former smirk transformed into a true smile, his eyes sparkling with mirth suited to his name. “I apologized!” He exclaimed as he helped her off the forest floor. She couldn’t help but notice the way he smiled at her, reminding her very much of Solas. Pharen grinned up at him, despite herself, forgetting momentarily that he was still very much the Dread Wolf, and that she was not in the company of her lost love. “So, what did you want to show me? Nothing…awkward, I hope?”Fen’Harel extended his arm, looking at her expectantly, but saying nothing. Deciding she had no choice, she looped her arm through his as they began to walk through the forest.


	4. Out of the Fade and into the Fire

     “I have something to ask, Fen’Harel, if I may?” Pharen asked him as they strode through the forest. “Of course, da’enansal,” he replied, stopping them and turning toward her. “Why do you call me a little gift when I’ve told you my name?” Pharen asked. It took him several moments to ponder over an answer, and he paused for so long she thought he may not answer her at all. “I call you that because that is what you must be. A little present.” He smirked at her with his answer.

     “But why? My name is Pharen,” she stated again. “You showed up, unannounced, in my temple. With no marks save for my own scent upon you, and you do not expect me to call you a little gift when you were clearly meant for me?” His answer stunned her into silence. Smirking once more, he began to walk forward, shaping the Fade around them. There were elves hurrying past them, a marketplace bustling with life, merchants calling to passersby in ancient elvhen, she assumed about their wares. Great crystal spires towered above them, brooks of water flowing freely through the square, Eluvians at every possible corner she stared into.

     She had stopped walking to gawk at everything he was showing her. Pharen released his arm and turned slowly about in the middle of the marketplace, trying to take everything in. When she made a full circle, she looked to Fen’Harel, standing there smugly. “Is…is this Arlathan?” she asked him. He nodded, chuckling at the face she was making. She was clearly in awe of what he showed her. He shifted his weight to one side, canting his head, considering her reaction to it all.

     "I suppose if you will be staying with m-us, for a time, then I can guide you around the city. You have no markings, therefore you will not be questioned as to why you are here. This particular marketplace has the finest wares Arlathan has to offer. Though you may want to consider getting some, ah, new robes.” At his words and his hesitation, she looked down at herself. Her robes were tattered, grass stains and dirt covered the bottom half of her. She bit her lip, embarrassed once more in the presence of the Dread Wolf.

     He snickered. When Pharen looked at him questioningly, he was smiling again. “Did you forget where we were?” She knitted her brow, considering his words. “I think I will take you there after you _wake up_.” She shot up in bed, hands flying to her robes. When she realized she was alone in her room, she put a hand over her heart in an attempt to calm its racing. The racing, however, was not attributed to being afraid of the six-eyed wolf in her dream. She did realize one thing, though. She was not afraid of him as the Dread Wolf; she realized with a fluttering feeling in her stomach she was afraid of what she was beginning to feel for him.

     His purposeful steps as he walked, the little tricks he played on her in the woods, even so much as being near to him made her heart flutter. She was broken out of her reverie, however, when she heard a soft knock at the door. “ _Da’enansal_? Are you…decent?” She heard him ask through the door. “You can come in, it’s safe.” She called to him.

     As he opened the door to her room, she had to make a mental note to stare at him. He was wearing forest-green robes with golden Elvhen symbols crisscrossed across the fabric. He wore his signature skull atop his head, a leather thong holding his mass amount of hair out of his face. She could see now that in fact both sides of his head were shaven, an attractive look for him, to be sure. He stood in the doorway, a small smirk gracing his features. “With me, nowhere is ‘safe’,” he said, laughing at her horrified expression. “I jest, I jest, _da’enansal_.” He walked toward her, sitting down at the edge of her bed, close enough to her that she felt the bed dip down with his weight. 

     “I thought maybe before I brought you to Arlathan you’d perhaps like to bathe first? I’m quite certain this was a long trip for you, wherever you came from, so please, by all means, take your time. I’ll show you the bath house, if you wish?” His words sounded almost shy, not anything like the playful nature he had shown previously. Pharen stood to her feet, giving him a genuine smile. “I’d like that.”

     He smiled back, getting up from the bed, and offered his arm out for her to take. She took it without hesitation this time, and walked with him out of his throne room, down the hallway they had initially come down, and outside, where there was a giant fountain, depicting his wolf form. He steered them away from the statue, down a cobbled walkway that seemed to lead into a forest to the right side of his temple. As they approached the forest, Fen’Harel waved his hand to show it was not in fact a forest, but a building that was connected to the temple, albeit separate. She could smell all sorts of sweet-smelling fruits and flowers, some known to her; some not. 

     Fen’Harel led her to the door, stopping where the stone did on the ground. “This is far as I will take you. Once you are finished, you can find me in the throne room, and we will go together to Arlathan.” He smiled, gently patting her hand on his arm, and excused himself from her sight. Pharen watched him leave, a contented smile on her face.

     She opened the door to find the most entrancing sight yet. Along the walls were both veilfire and normal torches, the soft blue light and the orange from the fire giving a relaxing feel to the bath. The tub itself was sunken into the floor, and large enough to fit at least three elves besides herself in its depths.  Shedding her robes and underthings on the floor, she cautiously put a toe in the water. Feeling its warmth, she waded into it, giving a soft sigh and groan and she relaxed in the water. Looking around, the saw several glass vials at the very edge, which she could only assume were to wash herself with, so she walked over to them, uncorking and smelling each one in turn.

     Lifting up the last of the vials, not having found one she enjoyed yet, she uncorked and placed it close to her nose. The scent that wafted up to her was one of a sweet smelling fruit, combined with flowers that she herself had planted in the garden at Skyhold. Together, the two smells were lovely. Deciding to take a little time and wash away all the dirt and grime from her body, she completely immersed herself in the warm water, pausing when she walked over a rough part of the stone under her feet. Tracing the line with her toe, she realized it was in fact a fire rune, keeping the tub at its current temperature.

     After washing her body and hair thoroughly, she got out of the bath, only to look out of the window and realize the sun was beginning to set. _How long was I in there? I must have really needed it_. Drying herself off, and grabbing a fresh robe from next to one of the braziers, not remembering one being there before, she walked down the hall that was attached to the temple itself. As she padded softly down the hallway, dirty robes in hand, she came to the runed door that led into Fen’Harel’s throne room.

     Pharen was uncertain as to how she could progress beyond this door, seeing as how it was very much locked. Unthinking, she raised her left hand over the handle, only to have it unlock before her. _I suppose it recognized Fen’Harel’s magic._ She strode into the room to see the god himself lying haphazardly across his throne, his feet kicked up along the wolf’s tail, his head lying against the side of the wolf. Upon hearing his door open, he cast his eyes towards her, a small smile tugging at his features. He sat up a little straighter, beckoning her to him.

     “It is good to see you have finally made it back. The sentinels were beginning to worry,” he said, chuckling, nodding over to the two ever-stoic figures standing guard outside her door. As she approached his throne, and before she could stop herself, she looked into his bluer-than-she-remembered eyes, and asked, “Just the sentinels were worried about me?” She kept her tone playful, but the color in her cheeks betrayed her. She watched as he lost all mirth, drawing his features down into a frown. He opened his mouth to reply, but Pharen beat him to it. “ _Ir abelas_ , Fen’Harel. I…forgot myself. It won’t happen again.”

     Pharen cast her eyes to the ground at his feet, the skin on her chest, neck, and cheeks flaming red at the fact she had _flirted_ with the _Dread Wolf._ The one person she was always taught to protect her clan from, and she felt as if she couldn’t help herself but to do the exact opposite. Lost in thought and chastising herself, she hadn’t even realized he had gotten up from his throne and was now standing less than two feet away from her. Bringing a hand up to cup her cheek and force her to look into his eyes, Pharen found herself looking up at a very much grinning Fen’Harel. 

     His voice was so low when he spoke that she barely managed to make out what he said next. “ _Da’enensal,_ what would it do to my reputation if I admitted aloud that I was genuinely worried that you took a longer _bath_ than normal?” He had emphasized the word, causing her to flush deep once more, but unable to turn away from his penetrating gaze. When Pharen spoke, it came out as a near-whisper, and Fen’Harel couldn’t stop himself from grinning wider. “Aren’t we supposed to be going somewhere?”

     “Ah, yes. Of course.” Fen’Harel cleared his throat, easing away from her and retreating back toward his throne. “Are you ready, _da’enansal_? Arlathan is a decent way from here. We wouldn’t want you to ruin your fresh robe on the path we must travel; I’m afraid I do not carry any spare female clothes with me.” Pharen flushed and arched an exasperated eyebrow in his direction while he threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Follow me, then.”


	5. What do I do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Harel and Pharen visit Arlathan

     Fen’Harel led her outside once more, but instead of turning at the giant statue, they instead continued straight along another pathway, this one heavily guarded by sentinels, though they did not have the same appearance as the sentinels inside; these stoic guards all had their heads covered with black hoods, their auras imposing as they walked past them. She could literally feel the magic rolling off of them in waves.

     They stopped before an inactivated eluvian, Pharen looking up at him in confusion. “Are you ready, da’enansal? I am uncertain as to whether you have seen the likes of the city before.” He grinned smugly, as if laughing at something only he knew. Furrowing her brows and crossing her arms with a slight huff, she smiled a sarcastic smile. “Have you already forgotten you showed me Arlathan in the Fade, Fen’Harel? That bath must still be on your mind.”

     The Dread Wolf opened and closed his mouth several times before settling on closed while she laughed openly at him. He felt a very unfamiliar flush rush underneath his robes as he admired her warm smile, that he knew despite it being aimed at him, it was indeed for him. Fen’Harel rolled his eyes at her. “Come, da’len. We have much to do.” Pharen’s laugh slowly stopped as it dawned on her the words he used. She had grown quite used to him calling her his gift; in fact, it gave her a small thrill deep in her belly when he did, especially knowing his reasoning behind it. Now that he called her da’len, it was almost an insult.

     It was Pharen’s turn to open and shut her mouth, and as she, too, settled on closed, she allowed him to place a hand at her back as he guided her through the mirror. Once they reached the other side, into the Crossroads, his hand remained at her back as he guided her toward an eluvian that had several elvhen markings across the top, along with two statues of trees flanking either side, their roots curling together to form the bottom of the mirror itself. She stepped through it without hesitating this time, and finally saw what she had only dreamed of seeing with her own eyes. Arlathan.

     It looked just like it had in the Fade, except brighter, more people, and many more merchants than he had shown her initially. She gawked as she walked past the merchants, calling in ancient elvhen for potential customers to come to their stalls. It was beautiful, and she told Fen’Harel as much when she turned to him. “Beautiful, is it?” He grinned, showing a little bit of pride at Arlathan’s ability to essentially make Pharen speechless.

     She elbowed him, “You know it is. You live here.” She grinned broadly, the slight dimples in her cheeks showing, along with a seemingly ever-present blush. Fen’Harel reached out and took her hand, pressing several gold pieces into her palm. “Go have fun. Whatever you wish to look like here, you have your choice of vendors, I assure you.” He gestured to a clothing stall not far away from where they currently stood.

     Pharen smiled gratefully up to him, and before he could process what was happening, she stood on her tiptoes, her hand braced against his chest to keep her balance, and pressed a chaste kiss to his cleft chin. “Thank you,” she said as she removed her hand from him. All he could do was give her a small smile, afraid to speak for the emotion that was welling deep within him, battling with the ever-present wolf, telling him to stop leading this beautiful creature along a path that she could surely not go down with him.

     Lavellan worried at her lower lip as she walked away from him, mentally chiding herself. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why. Again. Why are you doing this to yourself?! She inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her nerves as she approached the vendor which he had pointed out. The merchant spoke softly to Pharen, “My dear, please, peruse my clothing. I make all of it myself, and it would do me a great honor to have a devout to Fen’Harel wear one of my dresses.” The older elf nodded as she appraised Pharen’s lithe figure. Pharen, though taken aback at the merchant’s words, said nothing to correct her. She had, in fact, been very loyal to the Roamer of the Beyond both as a child and as an adult.

     As she stayed and spoke quietly with the merchant, the Roamer himself was watching her. He could not help but to notice the curve of her full lips as she spoke and smiled with wonder, nor could he fail to notice the more subtle movements of her body language; the way she shifted her weight from the ball of her foot to the heel if she was nervous, or the way she would run a hand through her hair after telling a lie, or even down to the way her eyes were alight with genuine interest at what nearly anyone would tell her. She was beautiful to him, though he was uncertain as to when she became such.

     As he pondered the answer, he was surprised to see dragon horns at the very edge of his peripheral vision. The woman sidled up next to him, fixing him with a very calculating look. “Fen’Harel,” she said, “why must you watch her so? Surely you cannot be interested someone you barely know anything of.” He cringed, realizing she was right. “Mythal, is there something I should know?” He raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to laugh, which in turn caused his hackles to raise.

     “Wolf, there are many things you should know, but are you willing to listen?” She replied cryptically. He sighed, knowing he would not get very far. She rested a hand at his shoulder, squeezing it gently, before turning away to greet her priest, Abelas. Abelas nodded once to show his acknowledgement before being led away by Mythal. Fen’Harel gave a weary sigh before turning his head back to where Pharen had been. She was wearing a broad, dimpled smile, and was laughing with the vendor.

     Almost as though sensing his gaze, she turned to him and gave him the softest smile and wave he had ever had the pleasure of being graced by. He felt his heart jump into his throat as he smiled back at her, though now he knew he was in trouble. Pharen walked over to him, a blue and gold dress draped over her shoulder. “I’m ready to go when you are, Fen’Harel. And…thank you again, for this, for everything.” She smiled briefly, and settled into step next to him as they strode toward the eluvian.

     His mind was rushing with various trains of thought, all connected to her in some way. Pharen noticed how quiet he was being after the dragon-horned woman had spoken with him at the market. Though she was loathe to admit it, she was afraid the woman had said something to make him back off from her, which, she decided, was not what she wanted. She wanted to get to know the younger Solas, and to do that, she would have to share about herself, first.

     “I was wondering if we could have dinner outside tonight?” The question came from out of nowhere from her once they reached the temple. He stopped in his tracks, dumbfounded. “You…want to have dinner with me?” He asked slowly. “Of course, silly. I’m staying here with you, and I know that…you don’t know much about me beyond I am not from this time and my name. Would you at least indulge me for a little while?” They had stopped in front of the fountain, and he was contemplating his answer. Apparently he took too long, and he saw the telltale signs of a blush creeping across her chest.

     “Ir abelas, hahren. I know I need to get better at this but I can’t help but think that you’re…him…from the past. I want to know you, if that makes any sense. I don’t care that you are him, or look like him, or whatever. I also don’t mind that you’re a god of the pantheon, so you can get that out of your head. I’m not trying to do anything…weird…I just want to get to know you better, is all.” Pharen sighed as she finished her small speech, turning to go into the temple, but before she had even reached for the door, he pressed a hand to the crook of her arm. “I will see to it we are not disturbed, da’enansal. Consider your wish granted.”

    She gave him a charming smile, dimples and all, and nodded her head in understanding. Pharen walked quickly back to her quarters, both excited and nervous at the prospect of dining in the Wolf’s den with the Dread Wolf himself.


	6. Dinner date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Harel and Pharen have dinner; Andruil is also not happy (is she ever?)

     Pharen had to mentally tell herself not to skip down the hall to her quarters as she turned away from Fen’Harel, the smile still plastered very plainly on her face. She reached the throne room, waving a hand in front of the throne room, only to discover the door was already open. Confused, Pharen pressed a hand to the doorframe, and pushed it open, allowing a small opening to see through. What she saw, she had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from alarming the looming figure standing in front of Fen’Harel’s throne. The motion was pointless, however, when the person turned as Pharen was attempting to back away, and run to find the Wolf.

     The voice, when it finally sounded, sent chills through her entire body. “You are Fen’Harel’s new pet, I see. Interesting.” The figure stepped into the light spilling from the doorway, revealing a woman with wild, fire-red waist-length curls, dark tattoos of many nightmarish creatures crept up her legs and arms, and two golden arrows were emblazoned on the chest piece she wore. The bow she carried was absolutely massive in comparison to any Dalish hunter’s bow; it was nearly twice the size of a normal bow, with runes and ancient Elvhen text scrawled across it.

     Pharen knew this woman by no other name than Andruil herself. Goddess of the hunt. Though her scorned and disdainful tone was not what she expected from a goddess. Andruil walked lazily to a shaking Pharen, a cruel smile gracing her painted lips. Every part of her screamed to Fen’Harel, quickly praying for aid. When none came, Pharen had no choice but to look up at the imposing goddess. “Can you not speak, girl? ‘Tis a wonder, then, why he kept you. Fen’Harel likes his loud.” The cruel smile only grew wider at the emphasized words, and Pharen could only imagine what she meant. ‘His’ what, exactly? Pharen quickly stored that information away to ask him later. Diplomatically.

     “Ah, I wondered when you might choose to make your appearance, Andruil. Envious already? I would be, were I in your position.” Her heart nearly leapt with joy at hearing his voice, though the tone in which he took was unfamiliar to her. It was not kind in any way. Andruil rounded on him, sneering, “You’ve taken a pet. I didn’t take you for the type to enjoy the meek, Pup. I thought wolves were supposed to enjoy a little challenge in their hunt?” Fen’Harel visibly bristled at these words, a soft growl tearing its wear through his throat. “Huntress, I am well aware of your intentions here, and as much as I would enjoy your company, I must ask that you depart from my temple. There is nothing for you here, since your curiosity apparently got the better of you.” Fen’Harel said, coolly, though Pharen could see a small shift in his jaw, a telltale sign when he was on the verge of being incredibly angry.

     She had seen Solas do exactly that, once, right before he burned three mages alive for warping and twisting his friend to their own ends. Though Andruil said nothing, her sneer said it for her. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. She rolled her shoulders back and raised her head, and gave a sarcastic inclination of her head to both Pharen and the Wolf. His eyes narrowed on Andruil’s form. “Tel’felas! If you would please, escort our guest here _out_.” A sentinel came from the shadows with increasing speed as he reached them, bowing low to Fen’Harel, he grasped Andruil’s arm, and walked quickly with her to the throne room door, then outside.

     Pharen and Fen’harel stood in silence, waiting until they could no longer hear their footsteps, and when they couldn’t, both simultaneously let out a long sigh. “I apologize, da’enansal. It was my mistake for not putting wards up around the temple. I had feared she would make an appearance soon; word travels fast here. I felt her magic and realized my folly too late. It was not my intent to put you at arm’s length to Andruil.” His tone was defeated, apologetic, and sincere, and Pharen couldn’t help but to give him a small smile.

     “It’s alright. I know you’d never do anything like that on purpose.” He returned her smile, and gestured to the dress still on her shoulder. “I do believe you have a dinner party to get ready for?” He asked, eyes twinkling. Pharen nodded enthusiastically, and skipped anyway to her room, the danger she had been in moments before now completely lost in her happiness. Once her door was closed, Fen’Harel allowed himself a small, private small on her behalf. Her shyness was endearing, to be sure. And if he was quite honest with himself, he found he was incredibly curious not only about the dress he knew she would wear for him at dinner, but curious about her in general. The fact he had no ulterior motives surprised him very much; he would see tonight if it would remain such.

     Pharen shut the door softly behind her, grinning from ear to ear, excited to try the dress on for the first time. The merchant had been so certain that it would catch even a god’s attention, she had said, which made Pharen even more giddy, nearly bouncing in place with her excitement. Pharen placed the dress across the end of the bed, admiring the dressmaker’s handiwork. She peeled off the robe she had been temporarily given, and was about to peel out of her smallclothes when she heard a soft knock at the door. Confused, she called, “Who is it?”

     “Mistress, you don’t know me yet, but Mast-Fen’Harel asked me to assist you in getting ready for dinner this night,” a meek female voice answered from the other side. Pharen called for her to come in; she had, after all, never been one to be shy about what the Creators had given her. Every female looked the same and every male looked the same, the way she saw it; no point in having modesty. The small Elvhen that stepped through the door was nothing short of beautiful. Her hazel eyes were large and round and full of wonder, her blonde hair swept up in a very messy bun, and her face was not marred by anyone’s vallaslin. “Mistress Lavellan, I am Nehn, and I was asked to come help you…like I…already said.”

     The girl gave an embarrassed flush; she had not wanted to embarrass herself. Unbeknownst to Pharen, Nehn had expressed as much when she had been tasked by the Dread Wolf. Just make her happy, he had said. Nehn fondly smiled at the memory, never having seen this side of him. It was endearing to know that some of the gods really did care. “Would you like to sit down while I at least get the dress on?” Pharen smiled at the girl openly, trying to assure her no harm had been done.

     She received a small one in return, and Nehn did as she was asked, and sat at the edge of the bed, watching Lavellan slide herself into the dress. It was stunning, to be sure. The fabric itself was very dark sea-blue at the bottom, and as Nehn’s eyes trailed upwards, the dark sea-blue became lighter blues, and at the shoulders became pure white. The golden trim began at the “V” in the neckline in between Pharen’s chest, and wound intricately into the sleeves, which were also white. The patterns intersected at her shoulders, and cascaded down her arms in a wave, ending in a gold band around each wrist. Lavellan looked at Nehn questioningly, to gauge some sort of reaction; what she saw in the girl’s eyes was pure awe.

     “You don’t suppose…you could help me with my hair, could you?” Pharen asked nervously. Nehn jumped up, now grinning ear to ear for her. Pharen replaced Nehn at the edge of her bed while she worked. She sat for what felt like hours, allowing Nehn to do whatever she wished to her hair, which is why the girl surprised her when she clapped her hands together and gave a high-pitched giggle. “Oh, he’s going to love this! Here, take a look! Please!” Pharen chuckled at the girl’s enthusiasm, and when she went to a looking glass, she could completely understand why. Her long jet black hair had been made to curl, with half of her hair up and half of her hair down. The half that was up was made to stay that way by a simple flower in her hair, its stem wrapping around the tail. Pharen’s new hair that was growing in was also made to curl, in an effort to frame her face. It was beautiful.

     “Th-thank you, Nehn! I love it!” exclaimed Pharen, drawing the girl into a hug. Though initially Nehn was surprised at the contact, she almost instantly returned the gesture. “Of course, Mistress. I hope you’re hungry; Mast-Fen’Harel wanted the kitchens to cook a lot of food tonight. I think he did it because he wasn’t sure what you liked to eat. He’s too proud to ask for help if he needs it, though. Even though he knows any of us could have asked.” Nehn giggled, taking Pharen’s hand and guiding her out of the veilfire-lit throne room, down the opposite hallway, where more braziers were lit.

     They came to a great oak door, and Nehn gave her a gentle push at her back before wishing her luck and telling her how beautiful she was one last time, before turning heel and walking quickly away from the door. Curious, Pharen pushed open the door to have her senses assaulted by the sheer amount of food that was laid out on the banquet table. Once again, some foods she recognized; others she did not. The Wolf sat at the head of the table, with a chair placed adjacent to him. He had a smug grin firmly in place, she assumed from the foods he had gathered and was proud of himself.

     She smiled despite herself and began walking toward the open seat close to him. As she approached, she watched his smug grin fade, to be replaced by a flash of something unrecognizable in his features. Fleeting as it was, she almost wasn’t sure she had seen it at all. He quickly regained his composure and smiled openly at Pharen, standing up when she got close enough to the table. He gestured to the open seat, and waited for her to sit down before sitting back down himself. She got an odd fluttering feeling in her stomach at this display, and quickly tried to shake it off. Taking in the room itself, she noticed there were no sentinels around. She could sense wards, it was true, but there were no physical barriers.

     He had been telling the truth when he had said he would ensure they would not be interrupted this evening. “It all looks very good. Thank you, by the way. I know it was weird asking you to do this, but I thought it may help us be friends while I’m here.” She did not notice the quick furrow in his brow at the word ‘friend’. “It is no trouble, da’enansal. I enjoy the company. By company, I do mean a very beautiful woman that is sharing my den with me.” His words were meant to come across as playful and cocky, but even he could not keep the warmth out of them. He mentally cursed himself.

     “Please, by all means, eat what you will. It is…the first time in a long time that someone has shown interest in simply ‘getting to know’ me better.” He grinned at her, then, causing her to blush under his gaze. “I thought I could answer some things for you. I have no fear of consequences, Fen’Harel.” Pharen grabbed what she thought was ram from a rather large plate, and a green and purple fruit from another. “Indulge me, then, da’enansal. Tell me about yourself, where you are from.”

     Pharen chewed thoughtfully on the sweet fruit, after swallowing, she said, quietly, “You already know my name. You know that I don’t belong here, in this time, even though I am an elf and a mage…” she trailed off, but began to explain many things about herself in a short time. She began to tell him of the orb, the Inquisition, her companions, the Dalish, time magic and anything else she could think of. Fen’Harel remained mostly quiet, though his attention was focused solely on her. He only stopped her a handful of times during her story to ask questions.

     “Do you recall how you got here, da’enansal?” He questioned, grabbing a piece of meat and tossing it into his mouth. Pharen raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. “This will sound strange, but do you recall ever seeing a very large white wolf, at any point in your life? Outside of the Beyond, of course.” Pharen nodded, but said nothing, and waited for him to explain. “I ask because my one true animal form is that of a wolf, obviously. I thought maybe you had discovered an eluvian in your time, and my wolf sensed my own magic coursing within you, causing it to blindly attack. Especially if it was already hunting. The foci from your time, and the wolf colliding close to an eluvian would have caused a rip in time. The wolf may have even pushed you through it, here, to me. Why, I am uncertain. Though that seems a plausible explanation for what has happened.”

     Pharen numbly nodded, remembering the great white wolf that had thrown her off-balance. She had been so afraid, had feared for her life, rightfully so, it seemed. To think that Solas was hunting in his wolf form so close to where he told her what they’d had was real… The only detail she had left out was the fact his older self left her, a detail he quickly picked up on, after she regaled her tale to him.“You still have not told me about your Solas.” It wasn’t so much an inquiry as it was a prod. Her shoulders slumped. “I…he…he took my heart and gave me his in return. Though I don’t know how much heart was left of his when he gave it to me.” Her head remained bowed so she could not see his reaction. He had been about to speak again when he saw a lone tear track its way down her porcelain cheek.

     “Da’enansal, none of that,” he said gently, reaching across the table to cup her tear-tracked face to wipe away the wetness with his thumb. The action was so intimate, she had a hard time not flushing under his touch. She let out a soft sigh, and gently pressed her face into his palm, albeit momentarily. When he did not move his hand after she stopped crying, she raised her gaze to meet his. It was so soft, so warm, and she was afraid to blink lest she break his expression. Pharen looked into his eyes and saw a tenderness there, a genuine concern for her. Lavellan gave him a small, soft smile before putting her hand over his on her cheek, squeezing it affectionately, before gently pulling it away.

     Pharen rose from the table, gathering the bottom of the dress so she wouldn’t trod on it. “Thank you again, Fen’Harel. For everything. You don’t have to be good to anyone, yet you do. You go out of your way to be such. You’ve helped me a lot tonight, and you’ve helped me understand Solas better. And I love you for that.” Her words had been spoken gently to him, in a show of humility. Though once the words were out, it scared her how true they were. Though there was no taking the words themselves back, at least she could save herself from blushing incessantly to admitting such a thing to him. She whispered another thank you to him before turning around slowly and heading back toward the corridor.

     Once the door was closed, Lavellan collapsed against it on the other side, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. _What are you thinking, telling the Dread Wolf you love him?! Have you completely lost your mind?_ Unknown to her, on the opposite side of the door, Fen’Harel himself had sunk down into his seat, her final words still echoing in his mind. “ _I love you for that_.” Did she mean what he thought she meant? Was she still in love with an older version of him? He crossed his arms on the table, and laid his forehead on his arm, trying to make sense of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kinda ran away with me and ended up being way longer than anticipated
> 
> Tel'felas - literally, not slow


	7. An even bigger problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andruil is even more pissed off than normal; Fen'Harel and Pharen go hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay; my one-year wedding anniversary is coming up and work is hectic and -le sigh- In happy notes, I am already working on the next chapter xD

Fen’Harel remained that way on the table for some time, contemplating what her words meant. _Maybe_ , he thought, _I am reading too much info false words, and grasping for a false hope_. She had been beautiful this night, and he had found it difficult to keep his gaze locked to her own. Both his mind and thoughts had wandered far beyond the scope they should have, given current circumstances. Heaving a sigh, he stood and stretched his aching limbs, heading toward the door she had shut behind her hours ago.

                What surprised him though, was that she awaited him on the opposite side; she had fallen asleep against the door, he guessed, and had somehow fallen down into the floor and was snoring softly. Fen’Harel couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the sight of her sleeping form, and gently hoist her into his arms to carry her to her bed. As he picked her up, her arms reached up to curl around his neck, and she nuzzled her face into the dreads that lay across his shoulder, and he froze with the contact. He had not anticipated her to react this way, nor was he expecting himself to gaze down at her almost reverently.

                She began to mumble in her sleep as he progressed his steps to the throne room. Even his elvhen ears could only pick out bits and pieces of what she was saying, his name among the few things he could understand. He allowed himself a small private smile at the mere thought that even in her dreams, she thought of him, Fen’Harel, and not her Solas she admitted to loving so dearly. Her vhenan.

                He slipped inside the throne room, and pushed open the door to her quarters with his foot, still trying not to wake her peaceful form as she lay in his arms. Fen’Harel laid Pharen down on the bed gently, and covered her with a fur to keep her warm. Unable to help himself, he knelt down next to the bed where she lay, and pressed his lips to her temple softly. She stirred slightly, groggily opening her eyes, and when her gaze met his, she gave him a small, tired smile. “Goodnight, Fen’Harel,” she whispered before immediately slipping back into the Fade. That vulnerable smile had made his heart melt as soon as he had seen it, and so there, against his better judgment, he whispered, “Goodnight, _ma’arlath.”_

                The following morning found Pharen very sore. She stretched her aching limbs until they gave a satisfying _pop_ , from which she sighed in contentment. A note was laid next to the looking glass, her name scrawled in near-perfect script on the front. Curious, she opened it.

_Da’enansal_ , it began, which drew a bright smile from her lips before she continued reading. _I have come to the conclusion after our discussion that there may yet be things I am able to show you, even away from Arlathan and the temple you have come to call home. Come to the banquet table when you have finished dressing – we have an adventurous day ahead of us. –Fen_

                Tucking the note away in a pocket of some leathers that were laid out for her and hurriedly putting her thick ebony hair up in a messy bun, she raced out of her quarters to the room where they’d had dinner the night before and flung open the door, grinning, only to find the banquet hall empty. Pharen approached the chair in which he sat the night before, hoping there may be some clue as to his whereabouts. Her stress was unwarranted, however, when her eyes were covered from behind, and the smell of papyrus and a hint of embrium invaded her senses.

                “I did not expect you to be up so early, _da’enansal_ ,” he breathed against her neck, smiling against her skin at the involuntary shudder she made under his simple touch. Giggling, Pharen reached her hands up to place them over his own and gently pull them away from her eyes. “Good morning,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a barely stifled yawn and stretching her body against him. Fen’Harel immediately stiffened and took a step back, hesitantly dropping her hands that were still within his own. Her smile faded slightly, but came back almost immediately.

                “So, what do _you_ have planned today?” Pharen smirked, crossing her arms playfully. He couldn’t help himself, and so decided not to indulge her just yet. Cryptically, he replied, “You will be accompanying me to one of my favorite past times. I see that you are already prepared for the day, so let us make haste.” Smirking and turning away, he exited the room, leaving her no choice but to follow him.

                Pharen strained to keep pace with his much longer stride as he walked briskly outdoors, leading her toward the woods at the rear of the temple itself. Reaching a bend in the pathway, he stopped suddenly, forcing Pharen to almost run into him again, had she not been paying attention. “Wha-,” Fen’Harel pressed a finger to her lips to silence her, and beckoned her to the edge of the pathway. She felt his mana press insistently upon hers, forcing her to let her defensive barrier down. He rushed magic into her own aura, cloaking her from sight, though Pharen knew better than to ask what was going on when he was so incredibly tense.

                After a few moments in silence, her elven ears finally heard what he had initially; a whimper, coming from the other side of the wood from where they currently sat. Fen’Harel turned to look at her to ensure she was still right behind him. Pharen cocked her head to one side, while he pressed a single finger to his lips, never breaking eye contact. She nodded in understanding, and watched him change into a plain white wolf cub with blue eyes. He crawled through the underbrush, in search of the whimpering, and Pharen sat up on her knees to watch him, and possibly warn him, if need be.

                She watched as he approached a hooded elf who seemed to be sitting in the midst of a clearing in the woods, but when Fen’Harel got closer to inspect him, the person panicked, and she heard a clanging sound. The clanging of someone that had been captured. Fen’Harel transformed into his true elvhen form before the hooded figure, kneeling before them and attempting to unshackle them. The elf panicked once more, and tried desperately to get away.

Fen’Harel tried to soothe them in their language, but before he could even ask what they were doing there, a golden arrow flew past Fen’Harel’s head and embedded itself in the hooded figure’s skull. A bone chilling maniacal laugh sounded from very near to Fen’Harel, but before she could sound a warning, a large hand was clapped over her mouth and her mana drained.

                Pharen was dragged to the center of the clearing, and forced to the ground across from Fen’Harel. The dirt and grass had temporarily blinded her, and there were both voluntary and involuntary tears streaming down her face in fear. The crazy laugh sounded again, much closer this time, before Pharen felt a hand at her chin, forcing her to look up into large, glazed eyes. The bow at the person’s back was unmistakable. Andruil had caught them away from the temple.

                “Pup, you have not been given permission to hunt halla here!” Andruil exclaimed, the glazed look returning tenfold. “Aside, you are far too engrossed in your own deeds to take _this_ ,” Andruil grabbed Pharen’s tied back hair, and forced her to look to the sky, “to bed with you. You need someone…more…well, me!” Andruil cackled and painfully forced Pharen’s head back down, nearly pushing her back down into the ground in the process. Pharen did not miss the warning growl that tore from Fen’Harel’s throat.

                Fen, she noticed, was remaining in his elvhen form but unmoving at the feet of the dead elf. When at length he spoke, his eyes were narrowed and his tone was dangerously low, though still cocky in the words he chose to throw at her. “You dare to tell me whom I can and cannot bed, _goddess_. You dare have the gall to assume I want your void-crazed love. I do not. I do, however, wish for you to _remove yourself_ from my sight!” Fen’Harel had stood, and moved in front of Pharen, his power glowing green around them both, shielding her from harm.

                Pharen felt the pressure welling up inside his mana reserves, an untapped command at a flick of his wrist. Above his head, a snarling Fade-wolf could be seen, a warning to Andruil, to dare her enter his domain. Pharen, though weak, wanted to help him, even knowing she was far outmatched. Augmenting his power with her own, she felt through his aura when he was going to let the ball of energy release toward the towering goddess in front of them. Both Pharen and Fen’Harel pressed his magic against Andruil, _forcefully_ , and knocked her back several paces. Giving them both a feral and sadistic grin, she uttered a warning, “ _You will regret this,”_ before turning her heel and disappearing into the woods from whence she came.

Once he was certain Andruil was gone, Fen’Harel dropped to his knees in front of Pharen, looking her over carefully to ensure she had not been injured. “You realize I did not require your help?” He said through short, clipped tones. “I’m sorry I just…I wanted to help and…I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.” Pharen hung her head, and she heard him breathe a sigh, of relief or exasperation, she couldn’t be sure. “I say that, _da’enansal_ , because while magic of the gods cannot harm other gods, it can cause permanent harm to other elvhen. Even you.”

                Standing to her feet with his help, she asked, “What do you mean?” Pharen’s brow furrowed, and she worried at her lower lip, concerned she had made a bad situation worse. When at length he heaved a sigh, he grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I mean that gods almost always have some sort of barrier up, much like my own I covered you with earlier, to protect themselves. We are all magic users here, to some degree, and it would be foolish to walk around with nothing to defend yourself. I can only assume Andruil was caught off guard when you started glowing with the power you were given by me, acting like my own foci, and so the power was augmented further by you being a magic user yourself. Had that backfired, my power and your own would have been deflected by her barrier, causing harm to you…”

                Fen’Harel trailed off, leaving the last bit unsaid. The air hung thick between them like a fog, and Pharen broke the silence by trudging forward, deeper into the forest. “Where are you going?” He asked after her. Pharen turned and smiled softly, her dimples barely visible. “I can only assume we came here to hunt, right? Well, since you’ve not been given permission to _hunt_ , I have a better idea. I promise I won’t piss off any more ungodly gods.” He could not help but snicker at her comment, and fall into step with her as they walked deeper into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooooo I'm sure all of you can see where this is leading? Good. The next chapter will have an M rating. Plus, fluff. Because underneath that "I'm a god, fk off" exterior, I have no doubt he is very sweet under all of it.


	8. Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Harel and Pharen make their way into the woods. Pharen tells him some interesting things,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in rating for this chapter. This is NSFW. I also apologize in the delay in getting this to you guys :/ As always, thank you so much for the kudos and comments - they make my day!

Dusk had fallen by the time they reached a clearing, and, exhausted, Pharen slung her pack to the ground, trying and failing to yank the bedroll out of it. Fen’Harel smirked, watching her struggle with it, and noting that she had forgotten to untie the tie at the side to keep it from falling out during the day’s trek. Finally frustrated, “Dread Wolf take you!” was exclaimed as she threw the pack across the forest floor, barely grazing over the fire he had built during her struggle.

Fen’harel snickered and began laughing wholly at the curse she so easily thrown out. As soon as he began laughing, however, she covered up her mouth with a loud gasp and looked at him apologetically. “I am…so sorry. I didn’t…Creators, I…” Pharen buried her face in her hands, blushing all the way to the roots of her hair. “It is quite alright, da’enansal, I assure you that is by far not the worst thing I have heard today.” His laughter subsided eventually, and she eventually was able to look him in the eye again.

“You brought us out in the middle of nowhere for a reason, I hope?” he asked, finally. “I did, and I hope that I can give you a little more insight into myself by doing this. Here, lay down,” she instructed, gesturing to a place next to her. Fen’Harel eyed her warily, but lay where she pointed in the grass. She extinguished the small fire, and lay down next to him, her arm brushing lightly against his as she did. Above them, the sky was crystal clear, every constellation that had ever been created was visible, seemingly only for them.

“My clan once camped at a place that was at the very edge of the sea, and I used to steal away in the dead of night from the aravels to sit next to a statue of Fen’Harel at the edge of the cliff. I would talk to the statue, ask him for guidance, to make my steps swift, to protect us, to protect me.” Pharen stretched her legs, brushing her bared feet against his leg as she spoke; she noted he did not shrink away, so she continued.

“One night as I sat there at the cliff’s edge, I was trying to count the constellations, trying to name them all. I couldn’t sleep and my only friend was the one I had at my side, my Fen’Harel. I thought I’d heard him speak to me, telling me one day I’d see those constellations again with him, and he would tell me what they all meant. Even ones I didn’t know. I sat up, staring at the statue, thinking I’d gone mad because statues don’t talk and I was just lonely. Then I realized something.” She sat up and laid on her side, facing him and twining her legs with his own.

Fen’Harel himself was having trouble focusing on her words, his gaze lingering on her lips, hearing her, but not listening to her. He was headed for trouble, and he knew it. “What did you realize, da’enansal?” He breathed, so close to her he could smell the flowers in her hair. “Whoever I thought of at the literal end of the world was the one who held my heart. Where space meets time, where parallels never end, where I’m small and insignificant to the world, but in the world, someone is significant to me. You, Fen’Harel. You’re who I thought of at the end of the world, both in my time with the Inquisition, and that night at the edge of the cliff. You’ve held my heart for as long as I’ve known the stories of the Dread Wolf. I don’t think you’re a god of deception. I think you’re just misunderstood. And I understand, because everyone abandoned me, too, when I needed them most.” She was so close to him now, she could feel his breath mingling with her own.

Pharen leaned in, cupping his cheek and searching his eyes for a denial of a show of affection from her. Finding none, she met him halfway and closed her eyes, giving him an opportunity to refuse, to retreat. She parted her lips slightly in anticipation, hoping against hope that he understood what she was trying to say under the starlit sky. When his soft lips found hers, she knew that he understood. The softness quickly turned to need, the smoldering embers in her belly growing into a fire as she felt him press her back into the grass, a thigh in between her own.

Pharen looped her arms around his neck and twined her fingers in his hair as he kissed her, moving her legs apart to accommodate his larger frame. He teased her, drawing her lower lip into his mouth and gently biting in hopes of being rewarded with a soft moan. His deft fingers soon hook through an opening in her tunic, nearly ripping it open in his quickly-retreating patience. Pharen smiles, and reaches for him with a free hand and lacing her fingers with his own. Squeezing his hand gently, she asks him to look at her.

He meets her gaze, stilling his advances and curling his fingers around her own. A question lingers, a hesitancy in his eyes. Pharen rolls her hips against his, forcing a low growl from his throat, and she lifts both legs around him, locking them securely at his back. She coaxes him down to kiss her once more, before bringing his ear to her lips, and whispering, “Felas, ma fen.” Fen’Harel allowed himself yet another low growl, this time in a near-failed attempt to keep himself steady.

Calling him hers, in this setting, under the stars, he could not help but feel an urge to possess her, to make her his own, to ensure she never went back to her timeline. He ground himself against her, slowly, as she had asked, eliciting a small, breathless moan from the woman beneath him. Fen’Harel smiled softly, cupping her face in his palm, before kissing her gently once more. He realized she had unhooked her legs from around his waist and was now removing her smallclothes, already having discarded the leather trousers from earlier.

Within moments, she was bared to him fully, a sheepish and shy smile creeping across her face. Fen kissed her forehead softly, whispering in ancient elvhen how beautiful she was, and how he had never needed a mortal as much as he needed her, and that he remembered the first night they had watched the constellations. “You are beautiful, ma vhenan.” The endearment falling from his lips was not necessary, but it felt natural; as he said it, he felt both his physical heart and the heart he held in his arms fill with joy.

Quickly discarding his robes and laying over her once more, he positioned himself at her entrance, locking his gaze to hers, asking silently for permission. Instead of giving permission, however, she surprised him further. “Fen’Harel,” she began, “You should know that I’ve…never…” she bit her lip, and he shushed her by kissing her gently once more. “If you do not wish to, I understand. I simply thought my older self would have been elated at the prospect of having you.” She shook her head. “No? Then…I left before…” Pharen nodded her head slowly.

She couldn’t stand the sadness on his face, and cupped his cheek once more. “Ma vhenan, I’ve belonged to you always, whether it’s your future self , your past self, or you right now, as long as it’s still you, I’m happy.” Fen’Harel grinned and gently pushed himself inside her heat, focusing on her face to ensure he was not hurting her. There was only a brief moment that she tensed around him, her brows furrowing slightly, before the pleasure broke through the surface.

He kept his pace steady while he toyed with her nipples, watching her expressions change from love to lust in seconds. “Look at me, da’enansal. I would see you undone.” Pharen’s eyes widened, her blunted nails digging into the flesh of his back, and her thighs tightening around his waist. His grin turned wolfish, leaning down to her neck and biting down in the soft valley that was her neck and shoulder.

She moaned obscenely, pulling her thighs to her in an effort to bring him deeper. He happily obliged, increasing his speed and depth for her. He knew she was close; he could feel her heartbeat beating in time to her walls tightening around him. “Garas, ma da’enansal! Garas!” Pharen arched her back off the grass, yelling for the Dread Wolf to take her. Fen’harel listened, making her his own that night.

As he emptied himself deep inside her, he felt a complete, as if a part of his life he hadn’t known had finally come back to him. Slipping out and pressing his forehead to hers, he whispered words he had never meant for anyone to hear but her. “Ar lath ma, vhenan.” Pharen smiled weakly, and curled up against him in the grass, her head on his chest, finding contentment in his heartbeat under her ear. Fen’Harel pulled one of her arms over his stomach, and lay his arm around her, casting a ward with his free arm so they could sleep there for the night. She softly whispered back, “Ar lath ma, Fen’Harel. Ma da’enansal.” The irony did not escape him as he smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head. Fen’Harel settled down, truly happy for the first time in centuries, and eased himself into the Beyond, so that he could spend more time with his heart. Unbeknownst to either in their sleeplessness, a pair of crazed eyes narrowed from the edge of the wood. Someone had seen.


	9. Dreams and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Harel admits to something from his past

Pharen awoke the following morning alone, but to the intense smell of blood and gore. Panicked, she rose, wild-eyed, to meet Fen’Harel’s grin not five feet away from her. “Morning, _vhenan_ ,” he said. She raised an eyebrow to his blood-soaked clothes and the two nearly-unrecognizable carcasses at his feet. “Did you do that, Fen?” His grin grew wider. “Would you believe me if I said I may have gotten a little overzealous in my hunt?” He crawled over to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, before retreating back to his work on skinning his kill.

Still half asleep, she smiled back, and moved to sit next to him on the ground. She produced a small knife from one of her boots, and began to assist his skinning. She could see the teeth marks in the animal’s side, and gently grazed her hand over one of the larger marks. She realized then that this was a halla – one that Andruil herself had warned him against hunting. Pharen dropped her knife in surprise. “You do realize this is a halla, correct?” She frowned at him, and he retained his seemingly ever-present grin.

“Of course I do, _da’enansal_. I am fairly certain I know what animals are what in this realm.” Fen’harel had apparently caught her meaning, however, and his grin faded. Shaking his head, and resting a gentle hand on her thigh, he met her gaze evenly. “She will not come for me, _ma sa'lath_. She can threaten all she likes, but she will not best me simply because I took one of her dear creatures.” Pharen nodded once in acknowledgement, before questioning him again. “What if she does come for you? What if you get hurt and I can’t get to you? What if she injures me and I get you killed-?”

He silences her with a finger pressed to her lips, and shakes his head. “ _Vhenan_ , please, do not worry. She will not bring either of us harm. I promise. I have always looked after you, why would I not now, when you have been declared my heart?” An uneasy silence filled their area, and Fen’Harel felt his hackles raise along his neck. Getting to his feet and shifting to his wolf form, he trotted to the very edge of the wards, inspecting them to ensure they were, in fact, safe from harm. It was after inspecting the final ward against the forest that he found a problem that was punctuated by a shrill laugh ahead of him.

Growling and pressing himself down to the forest floor, he launched himself toward the elf that had been hiding there. He was too slow. “Has your pet stolen all of your strength, oh mighty Fen’Harel?” Andruil jeered from behind him. He turned, quickly, to realize in horror she had one of her arrows pointed straight at Pharen’s chest. Snarling, he launched himself once more, this time connecting with Andruil’s shoulder, and managed to knock her off-balance. Fen’Harel allowed his beastial form to tear at her, brutally mangling her arms and legs and attempting to tear at her throat.

He couldn’t get to it, and he saw a glow emanate from around her weakened form. “Forgetting something?” Andruil sneered before launching a ball of highly-concentrated energy at his chest, forcing him against the trees behind them. He barely heard Pharen’s scream as he landed, followed by Andruil giggling madly in glee, before he sent a larger, more uncontrolled energy ball at Andruil, which threw her against the boulder to her side, but not before one of the arrows had been loosed from her bow, impaling Pharen’s inner thigh.

Fen’Harel bounded over to Andruil, ensuring she was in fact unconscious, before sprinting to Pharen, transforming into his elvhen form. His blue glow emanated around her near-fatal injury, though he could feel something off about the wound. He looked up as the scream tore through Pharen’s throat, her fists balling at her sides, and her entire body tensing, causing the arrow to sink more into Pharen’s flesh. Growling, and tearing off a part of his robe, he tied a tourniquet around her leg, attempting to ensure whatever the arrow was infused with did not travel further. That also meant he did not have much time before it reached her heart.

Dragging Pharen onto his back and transforming once more to his wolf form, he bounded off into the woods, headed straight for the nearest eluvian. Once it had been reached, he murmured Mythal’s password to ensure his entrance into her temple. Padding through it, sprinting to Mythal on the other side, and changing back to his elvhen form once more, he lay Pharen down at her feet in the courtyard. Not a word was spoken as she set to work on removing Andruil’s arrow, and removing the curse with it.

Black tendrils began to seep out of Pharen’s eyes, from her mouth, a literal lightning storm brewed, her own magic and Fen’Harel’s augmenting its power. The lightning lashed out against the people trying to save her, causing burn marks against the other elvhen’s skin. Mythal kept to her work, and would only toss out directions, for him to talk to her, to keep her conscious, to keep her from screaming, to hold her down as she worked.

Fen’Harel felt his heart sinking as he watched Pharen struggle under their care. It seemed several hours had passed when Mythal finally called for Abelas to carry Pharen to a temporary quarter where she may rest. Fen’Harel opened his mouth to protest, but was shot down at Mythal’s glare. Her aura was visibly pulsing around her. Not good, he thought. He watched Abelas carry Pharen away, and when they were out of sight, Mythal placed a stern hand at his shoulder. “Fen’Harel, my old friend, why put her in danger like that?” His head shot up in surprise. “How did you know what happened?”

Mythal’s eyes hardened before answering him, “I see all. Small pieces are scattered about of me; you, of all people, should know that.” Fen’Harel dropped his gaze from hers, before answering. “I love her, Mythal. I am uncertain I will be able to stand it when she is gone from this time, if this is how I react when she is simply injured.” He hung his head in shame. Mythal gave a small smile before pressing a hand under his chin, lifting his eyes to meet her own. “There is always a way, Dread Wolf. You have but to will it.” Mythal dropped her hand before walking away from a very confused wolf, who turned and padded to her sentinel.

Abelas pointed the direction in which a room was keeping the Dread Wolf’s heart. Following the walkway, he opened a large dragonbone door at the end, revealing Pharen laying on a makeshift bed inside. Closing the door behind him, he crawled in bed next to her and gathered her into his arms. “ _Ir abelas, vhenan_ ,” he said softly against the shell of her ear. It was then that he realized just how much he loved her, and how true his words had been when he called her _vhenan_ and _da’enansal_.

Laying there curled up against her, a single tear dropped down onto Pharen’s cheek, but it was not she who cried; the wolf, ever at her back, had failed her, and the guilt was gnawing at him. He had failed to protect her, and it had frightened him when Andruil had her bow aimed at her chest. He knew he would do anything to protect her – even lock the gods away. But for now, he had to figure out how he could keep her here.

Mythal had said where there was a will, there was a way. The will was most certainly there – but what was the way? Fen’Harel awoke lying on his back, with Pharen’s head lying on his chest, softly snoring. Smiling and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, he began to stroke her hair. She mumbled something in her sleep, but he only understood the word _solas_. His heart sank. Perhaps he hadn’t won her over after all? Against his better judgment, he slipped back into the Beyond, and used his power in her hand as an anchor to pull him to her, wherever she was in her world.

He saw his future-self in her dream, standing over her, chastising her for being too naïve, for not being more open minded, that she was not always right about everything. Fen’Harel watched, curious, as the dream faded away into a campsite, a presumably Dalish campsite, where two elven children were chasing another, smaller, child around the fire. The young one’s hair was cut at odd angles – perhaps a _hahren_ had been attempting to cut the _da’len’s_ hair at some point and it grew back that way?

His curiosity began to slip into anger when the two older children began teasing and taunting the youngest. How her hair was a different color, how she was so much lighter skinned than the rest, and how she was the worst hunter and she would never amount to anything. He growled low when halla feces and mud began to be thrown at her, causing her to topple off-balance and fall, face-first, into the mud. Reaching an apex of power much faster than normal, the wolf in him snarled and he bounded over to her, shielding her from the other elven children.

The white wolf threw his head back and howled, the very Fade shaken with his anger, his normal crystal-blue eyes had changed to a blood red in his wrath, all six of them coming into plain view. The children screamed, shouting to their elders about she called the Dread Wolf to us! Satisfied they would not return, he morphed into his dreadlocked form, and held a hand for her to grab. The child below him was no longer a child, however; it was his vhenan.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for them to come find me. I’ve had nightmares like this since I was that age…” Pharen trailed off, but he could feel a sense of truth, even though it was her dream. “Would it help you to know I was a terrible hunter too, when I began?” Pharen raised her eyebrows at his admission, and a disbelieving grin began to make its way on her features. “You’re a wolf, vhenan. How were you a bad hunter? You’re an apex predator!”

Hanging his head, he told her when he had tried hunting a rabbit for the first time, many centuries ago, and had not been fast enough to catch it. When the rabbit had finally been within his grasp, Fen’Harel had lunged, and fell face-first into a river. “I watched as a wolf pup sprang from the thicket and surprised the rabbit, clawing at its throat, thereby killing it. The pup had looked at me triumphantly, almost. I had been bested by a pup!”

Fen’Harel threw his hands up in the air, exaggerating his point. “Though that wolf pup did teach me something I have tried to amount to – be cunning. Your prey would never see you coming.” That wolfish grin made an appearance once more, causing a slight giggle from Pharen. “Come, I know you do not wish to be here. I wanted to ensure…you were safe, ma vhenan.” He cupped her cheek, and leaned his forehead against hers, eliciting a contented sigh from her. “Though since now I know you are safe, it is probably best that we **wake up**.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so so so so very much for the follows & kudos and comments they seriously make my day!! I wasn't really sure with this chapter, and I hope it doesn't seem too...out of place, I guess is the phrase?


	10. Is that really such a great idea?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'harel suggests something Pharen doesn't appreciate; also, the Dread Wolf's way of apologizing (it's cute I promise)

Pharen awoke in Fen’Harel’s chambers back at his temple, a soft fur blanket pulled against her skin. Coming to, she smelled a very familiar, albeit slightly different, scent. She groggily opened her eyes to stare into electric blue laced with mischief. “You know, I have this horrible feeling I’m going to grow wary of that look, Fen.” He only grinned broader, shifting his weight so he could kneel in front of her.

His smile dissipated with his next words, reaching for her hands to hold. “Mythal told me something quite strange while you were recovering, _vhenan_.” Pharen’s eyes lit up with a child-like curiosity, and he had to suppress a smile at her wonder. “I was…concerned, after what happened in the woods. Mother apparently noticed and came to me. I informed her of my…feelings, and Mythal stated where there was a will, there was a way for all things. I am…struggling to find what she means by that.”

Pharen allowed herself a small smile at this. “Fen, this is the second time I’ve been thrown into a different time. The first time though, an amulet was used before it was meant to be, and a companion and I were thrown into an…alternate timeline. What could happen, I suppose.” She halted her words here, deciding she didn’t need to tell him that she saw him there, in a cell, covered in red lyrium that had suppressed his magic. He had looked so broken, then. “

She might could mean that with my knowledge of the artifact itself, and your immense knowledge of the arcane, we may be able to pool them and find a way for me to get back to my own timeline.” She grinned broadly, believing she had helped him in his quandary.

Holding her hands to his own, he brought each of her fingertips to his lips, kissing them in turn and earning a blush from Pharen. Resting his forearms against the legs that were draped over the side of his bed, Fen’Harel gazed up at her, nearly reverently. His _vhenan_ did not break eye contact from him as he locked eyes with her, and he could barely restrain the happiness coursing through him; both at having her in his grasp and the news he had discovered in the Beyond.

“ _Vhenan_ ,” Fen’Harel began, “ Before I relinquish my news to you, I would like to know what you prefer to break your fast? I was not aware of your likes and dislikes, so I may have asked the kitchens to prepare one of everything.” His grin faltered only slightly at the admission, a gesture she would not have caught, had she not known him so well in the future. Pharen broke her gaze and looked behind him, her jaw dropping at the different array of brightly-colored fruits that covered the table.

She admonished him by laying a gentle thwack on one of the arms that lay across her legs. Fen’Harel watched as she rose from the bed, so in awe of everything laid before her, that she nearly ran straight into one of the other tables in his quarters. It took all the willpower he currently possessed to not snicker, though she turned around to glare at him at his not-quite-restrained snort. He rose himself and made to stand next to her, his fingers moving over the vast trays of food to pluck a single purple fruit from a tray at the back.

Dipping it in the dark sauce that lay next to it, he held it up for her to see. “Here, ma _da’enansal_ , a gift for you, if you would indulge me?” His heart nearly stopped as her eyes met his, not closing as she leaned for the fruit in his fingers. He watched as her tongue flicked out and caressed one of the digits holding the food out for her as she drew the fruit into her mouth. He could not have stopped the shiver that ran down his spine after she made a soft groan against his fingers. Nor could he have stopped the heat pooling deep in his groin at the way her tongue flicked out once more to clean the sauce at the side of her mouth, drawing her lower lip in all-too-slowly.

Standing before a very smug-looking Pharen, he coughed and managed to collect himself. “While you were resting, I thought of ways I could selfishly keep you here.” He felt her tense with his words, knowing she may be upset at what he had found. “While I sat at the edge of the _Vir’dirthan_ , a spirit of Wisdom came to me. She told me of a particular way I could keep you here with me, instead of sending you back to your time.” Fen’Harel paused and frowned, looking to her to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were alight with curiosity. He guided her to sit at the edge of the bed so they could speak.

“Alright, you have my undivided attention. How would we go about that?” The Dread Wolf smiled once more, his chest tightening in response to her acceptance. “Since I am an elvhen god, I am able to raise others. By ‘raising’, I of course mean make you a god. Like me.” He watched as her curiosity changed slowly into fear at his reply, her mouth forming a small ‘o’.

He pressed on, hurriedly, kneeling in front of her. “You are already a mage – a powerful one at that. You are kind and understanding. I would sit with you, assist you where you needed me, I would be your first priest, worship you as you deserve.” Fen’Harel’s eyes were bright, begging her to understand him. Pharen’s gaze darkened under his scrutiny. She said her next words so softly that he was unsure if he had heard her correctly, though the look on her face told all, “I can’t.”

“Why can you not? You would be treated as you deserve here, with me. You would not be in a future where Solas has left you to whatever fate he has deemed fit for you.” Fen’Harel had spat the name as a curse, meaning it as such. He could not understand why she could not stay here. It had not hurt anything when she was thrown into an alternate timeline before, had it?

“Because I have a duty to the people there, Fen. My friends are there, the people I spent months working with are there, though the magister is slain I can’t just abandon them like you did to me!” Her hands flew to her mouth, but the words were already spoken, and they remained in the air between them, tense as a taut bowstring. The words stung him, and bit at his very being.

“I see,” he said, in clipped tones. “You are angry with me over something I have not yet done in this time to you, and you are still willing to go forth in time, alone, and live out the rest of your days there as an elf at the head of a primarily human world? You truly believe that you will be celebrated much beyond the magister dying?” His words rang true, and they both knew it.

That didn’t stop her, however, from slapping him straight across the face, leaving a large, angry red welt. It took mere seconds for him to process what had happened, and she found herself very quickly surrounded in a pulsing blue cage of magic. Trying to move and discovering she couldn’t, she began to panic when the walls of the cage began to slowly crush her, inhibiting her ability to breathe. She barely managed to choke out his real name before falling forward into Fen’Harel’s lap.

Gasping for air and dry heaving, she dared a glance up at the Dread Wolf: the aura he kept so carefully guarded around him at all times was now pulsing and flowing freely around his form. His eyes had changed into a color much like the blood she had seen on the halla corpses scant days before. Hazarding a glance above his head, she saw the head of the Wolf retreating back into the recesses in which he kept that part of himself locked away.

Pushing himself up off the floor and away from her, he strode toward the door. He threw it open with a wave of his hand, slamming it against the wall behind it. He turned around to face her once on the other side, a brazen fury still contorting his features. The words he spoke as he met her eyes had a terrifying edge to them, and it caused Pharen’s blood to run cold: “ _Ma nuvenin_. I will ensure you get back to your correct time. **_Soon_**.”

With that, he waved his hand and the door slammed shut behind him, knocking several of the mosaics off his wall. Pharen remained, unmoving, at the edge of the Dread Wolf’s bed, her head hung in shame. She knew she shouldn’t have done it, she knew it would make him angry, but how dare he suggest she should stay here! She had obligations to the Inquisition! She had obligations to help the people of Thedas because they…well they…”Shit.”

Pharen threw herself onto a mountain of pillows and began to cry. She did not stop when some sentinels came in to check on her, nor did she stop when the food was whisked away. She only stopped when she exhausted herself into the fade, a beacon for benevolent and malevolent beings alike, and heard the far-away howl of a very angry alpha wolf.

**XxXxX**

Pharen searched through the green mist of the fade, unsuccessfully, to try and apologize to him. His future self had once told her things were easier for him there, and perhaps apologizing would be easier for her here. As she walked, she happened upon several dancing wisps, most likely drawn to her varying emotional states while she lingered here in their realm.Reaching a hand out, one of them flew through her hand, causing a cold tingle to bloom where it passed through. She giggled at the sensation.

“ _Ir abelas_ , Pharen.” She turned quickly to the voice she had come to know as Fen’Harel’s. He was crouched down, looking at something on the ground, before glancing up at her. “You used my name, Fen’Harel. Before now I was your gift or your heart, now I am simply my name?” Her ire toward him was not completely undeserved. They both knew she needed to return, and soon, lest more magisters come back from the dead, or more foci are discovered.

“I am aware of all those things, _da’enansal_ , though I use names when I mean something heartfelt. You needed to know I genuinely am sorry.” His gaze never left hers, challenging her to defend her anger against him. Jutting her hip out and placing a hand on it, she raised a quizzical brow at him. “You know I cannot stay here. The People need me.” He scoffed.

“The People are but shadows of their former selves. If you would genuinely rather be there with them than here with me, then say it.” His words caught her off guard. Good. “I cannot because that would be a _lie_ , _harellan_. I am not the trickster you are.” Her brows were furrowed but she had yet to open herself up to him. She was not backing down from him, even in his own domain.

He put his arms up in surrender. “Fine. Come speak with me when you are able, then.” He vanished into thin air; she had to assume he had woken himself up somehow, a brilliant way to get away from things that were unsavory here.

_**Focus**_. She heard a voice say. _**Focus on where you want to be and it shall be as you say**_. Not wanting to remain in this place any longer, she focused on Fen’Harel’s quarters, and the soft warm furs he had draped her in. She felt herself being yanked forward, and landing on exactly where she had placed herself in her mind. _Neat_.

Looking around, she saw no one, but heard a soft thud against the other side of the bed. Confused and deciding to lean over, she saw something moving under a blanket that had fallen down some time during her sleep. Furrowing her brows, she lifted the edge of the blanket, and saw six gleaming sapphire eyes staring up at her. “Hey there little fella. What…are you?” Removing the cover completely, she took in the sight that was now sitting on the ground.

Upon first inspection, it looked like a normal black and charcoal grey wolf pup, save for the six dark blue eyes that watched her every move. She picked up the pup behind its front legs, while watching it carefully, even as she drew it into her lap. Pharen began petting its head, a low growl of contentment emanating from the small animal.

Upon closer inspection, however, she discovered that not only did it physically have six eyes, and the grey in its fur faintly shimmered as she stared at it. The pup also had a light green aura surrounding it. Something from the Beyond, then? She pet him along his spine and fluffy tail, noting the ridges that were along its back and also faintly glowing green. Its ears came to a sharp point at the top, much like the Bringer of Nightmares himself did.

She had been so immersed in this little creature that she hadn’t felt the bed sink down next to her. “His name is _Da’fen_. He bears a likeness very close both in looks and personality to the wolf pup that bested me in my grand hunt. A spirit of Hope has bound itself to the pup, so he may always protect you…when I cannot.” Pharen felt her chest constrict at his words, and she realized she hadn’t even gotten a chance to really mourn Solas being gone, and wasn’t sure how she would fare losing him completely.

A single tear fell on the head of Da’fen, and he looked up to her, slowly blinking his eyes. Steeling her nerves, she held Da’fen close, and met Fen’Harel’s unwavering gaze. “Tell me more about what you learned from your friend at _Vir’dirthan, vhenan_. I cannot leave you here.” Now grinning ear to ear, the Dread Wolf launched into explanation on what rituals were entailed, what training she would have to go through, what lore she would need to learn, and of course, what power was required to make her own foci.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my holy crap this chapter ran away with me too lol  
> Thank you all so much for your kind words and reviews! I'm actually starting to have a lot of fun with this idea xD after this chapter will deviate very much from canon, and will begin to be headcanon.
> 
> Also: I took what I knew of the "Path of the Way of Sorrows" with the Vir'abelasan and made it Vir'dirthan "Path of the Way of Secrets". I thought it fitting xD


	11. Trial of the Sentinels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sentinels administer their test

Da’fen and Pharen were nearly inseparable as weeks passed; he was used by Pharen both as a guide and as a friend as Fen’Harel’s tests loomed in the coming days. Fen himself had not been seen as much, and so Da’fen and Pharen had been left to bond, consisting of playing hide and seek in the temple’s courtyard. “What do you think this will all be about, hm? Should I expect some wild chase? Should I expect to be tested to my ultimate will only to be felled by a mighty hunter?” Pharen giggled to herself, while her companion gave a small woof of annoyance.

“Oh, stop it you. It’ll be fine! What could possibly go wrong?” Da’fen growled as fiercely as any pup could, making her laugh and giggle. She hadn’t noticed the shadow behind her, however. “Da’fen is not meant for entertainment,” Fen’Harel gently chastised her. “He is meant to protect you and give you strength…” Lavellan turned slightly to face the wolf, turning her face slightly upward, and shielding her eyes from the bright sun at his shoulder.

“I know. I…well, I wanted to get to know his wolf-pup ways, so I thought I could get to know you better, _vhenan_ , if you want me to be perfectly honest. He’s not calculating and perceptive, and has not yet learned how to hunt, yet you expect of him to protect me when he doesn’t know how to protect himself?” Pharen looked up at him expectantly, the pup sitting down next to her, and canting his head to the side, as if to say ‘she has a point’. “That aside, he will be taught, much as you are about to be taught, _ma da’enansal_. Come, we have things to attend.” Fen’Harel extended his hand to her at his feet, gesturing with his fingers to take it.

Once she did, he helped her to his side, leaving Da’fen ferociously growling at the shadows cast by the duo. Fen’Harel guided her inside the temple, where many sentinels kneeled in prayer around a statue dedicated to his wolf form in the main hall. She could tell the Wolf was very much excited by whatever it was that was about to happen – he was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Turning to her and taking her hands in his own, he pressed a kiss to the top of each hand before allowing them to fall to her side. She was shaking in anticipation and met his cerulean gaze. “Today, _vhenan_ , you begin your tests. This one is being given by the sentinels of this temple, as you can see. This will be a trial for both your physical strength and your will. Should you succeed, you will then be administered a second trial. Should you fail, the sentinels will strike you down.” The upbeat tone he had carried before faltered at the last words.

He had, in fact, given orders to his sentinels to strike her down. Fen’Harel knew she would not fail a test, his test, any test; his pride and faith in her told him so. It had been thus he had been at peace with allowing his sentinels this task. Pharen, on the other hand, was shaking; her eyes were downcast to the robes she wore, and her heart was hammering in her chest so loud she was certain everyone in the hall could hear it.

Her _vhenan_ had given an order for his sentinels to kill her should she fail. Shifting from one foot to the other until finally seeming to come to a decision, Pharen lifted her head and met Fen’Harel’s blue gaze. Squaring her shoulders, she unwaveringly stated, “I’m ready.” Breaking their stares and nodding to the leader of his sentinels once, Fen turned away and strode to a separate chamber, not telling her _dareth shiral_. He knew she would make it. She had to.

Lavellan held her head higher when addressed by their leader. He was a tall elvhen man, sharp features that contrasted harshly with his violet eyes that seemed to peer into her very depths; depths she wasn’t certain he could not read. He raised his hand and Pharen knelt down before him, eyes shut tight, and listened to him cast; the words he spoke so fluently were unfamiliar to her, their cadence both poetic and discordant.

Unbeknownst to Pharen, her surroundings were beginning to change; the four walls gave way to large trees, the stone floors becoming green with grass, the existence of the elvhen sentinels before her disappearing. The song grew to its peak, and then softened to its close, while Pharen opened her eyes to take in what was now around her. Standing to her feet, she listened closely to the sounds of the forest – but there were none.

She discovered she had been kneeling in front of a statue dedicated to the Dread Wolf, in a clearing with many paths to take. Hearing nothing and uncertain of what to do, she chose a path at random and began to walk down it. Looking ahead, she could only see the cobbled path she walked for very few feet; a black cloud seeming to come to find and greet her from further down the pathway.

Upon nearly reaching her, however, the black cloud twisted and turned and took shape; a shape in which everyone should fear. The Dread Wolf. The Roamer of the Beyond. The Bringer of Nightmares. The Great Wolf. He Who Hunts Alone. Fen’Harel. A great black wolf, an aravel or two tall, its coat becoming wispy as the cloud’s shape, its six crimson eyes peering at her from in front of laid-back ears and behind bared fangs. This was not her _vhenan_. This was something else entirely, though she still approached it, without fear.

The wolf snarled and bared its fangs, still dripping from the blood of its most recent kill. Narrowing her eyes at the great beast, she raised her hand as if to pet it. Her insides were screaming at her, her every fiber screaming at her to run, to run far away from Fen’Harel. Her hand did not falter as she drew closer to him, nor did the Wolf back down from the challenge.

Pharen walked toward the Dread Wolf, and stopped mere inches from him, being able to practically feel the thundering growl emanating low in his chest. The snarling did not stop as the beast sat back on its haunches and stared at her, unblinking. Lowering her arm, but never eye contact, she challenged the Wolf without needing to speak.

“ _ **You dare attempt to treat me as a mere pup, mortal**_?” His voice had changed, like the sharp edge of steel meeting steel, the sound resonating throughout the forest and grating on her every nerve. Goosebumps began creeping their way up her neck as she stared him down. His hackles raised slightly, but his stance did not waver. “ _ **You put your life at the whim of a god, who would sooner see your lifeless corpse at his feet than have you alive and convolute his path**_!” Pharen’s jaw dropped at the audacity of this creature, her left hand clenching into a fist, causing the magic there to spark uncontrollably. “You presume to know the exact will of Fen’Harel, though I know you are not He Who Hunts Alone. The Dread Wolf I know is not so crass in his wording; he is more cunning than that. You seek to bend my will from leaving this place! Begone!”

The Wolf snarled his displeasure at her raised tone, his hackles further raising along his back. Lowering his body and baring his fangs, he lunged for her, claws extended to their full length and almost shredding the fabric that covered her torso. “Forgot about the barrier, didn’t you! Fen’Harel told me to always keep it up!” The beast snarled and lunged once more, forcing her backwards.

Crying out in surprise, Pharen fell back against one of the large trees behind her, writhing in pain as her back struck the trunk. Her vision flashed white in agony from her injury as she heard the low, rumbling growl from the Wolf to her right. Casting a panicked wall of fire to increase the distance, and a barrier at the last second, she struggled to crawl away from the black cloud that had taken Fen’Harel’s form.

Covering her head with her hands and pulling her knees inward, being mindful not to stretch her back too much, she lay on the ground and waited for him to take her. He never did. The silence of the forest had returned, but the air seemed less oppressive than before. She struggled to her feet, her eyes darting around her immediate surroundings for some sign of the Wolf and found none. He and the cloud had vanished. Heaving a sigh of relief and allowing herself to collapse against a nearby tree trunk, she was only allowed a moment’s respite before hearing a twig snap.

Pharen instantly froze, her ears prickling in an attempt to pinpoint the direction from where the sound came. Another twig snapped. Pharen lowered herself subconsciously, to try and hide from an attacker. What she saw though, was the next to the last thing she expected – a halla. A golden halla, in fact. It was _Hanal’ghilan_ , the “Pathfinder”, as the Dalish had called it, said to only come to someone when they are in great need. The golden animal canted its head to the side, as if to ask if she needed assistance; Pharen could only stare.

_Hanal’ghilan_ began making its way down an adjacent pathway to her own, keeping a very slow pace. Lavellan began to hobble towards it, only to fall only a few feet forward. The halla turned and came to her side, nudging her injury with a cold nose that radiated a warmth unlike she had ever known. The halla’s nose pressed into her back, causing Pharen to groan in pain for a mere second before it dissipated. Confused, she turned to the beast, furrowing her brows before stretching her back out while she lay there on the ground. Her back was no longer injured.

_Hanal’ghilan_ lowered its head, offering assistance to get up; Pharen accepted the help to realize she hadn’t needed it at all. Smiling slightly, she turned to the Pathfinder who had begun to walk down the same path as before. Taking the hint, Pharen followed it along many pathways; some dark, some light, some well-travelled, others not at all. They finally came to another shrine, but the mist enveloping this part of the woods had also claimed this statue as its prize. Pharen stepped toward the statue, kneeled before it, just as before.

Several sentinels came from the mists, holding intricate staves in their hands, a glowing green orb at the head of each and every one. All of the sentinels kneeled down with her, prostrating themselves before the statue. The song from before begins to be sung by one of the sentinels, each cadence change adding another voice to the tune. After all are singing, and the final note has been sung, the shrine splits in two, revealing a pool of water and an empty jug. She rose to her feet, grasping the jug and filling it with water before wandering waist-deep into the pool itself.

Grasping the jug and taking a single sip from its depths, Pharen smashed the jug against the inside of the statue, shattering it. Walking back out on the grass, the sentinels begin chanting in a tune not unlike before, their heads still bowed in submission. She rejoined their ranks, and soon saw the world before her begin to spin uncontrollably. She nearly lost her nerve as the trees whooshed towards her and turned into walls; the grass under her toes died and wilted away; the veilfire torches returned in the sconces along the walls.

Right before her sat her Fen’Harel in his throne, his feet kicked over one side, and his head once again using the wolf to rest his head. He was smiling. “I knew you would prevail, _ma vhenan_ ,” he breathed, once she had reached him. Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed a soft and tender kiss to her lips, and twined his fingers with her own. Sighing contentedly, she pressed her forehead to his, feeling safe once more. “Your next task will not be nearly so…taxing as that. I promise.” Closing her eyes and melting into his embrace, she allowed him to press a feather-light kiss to her forehead. Grasping her hand, he led her to the chamber behind the throne itself, and with a wave of his hand, the door swung open.


	12. Trial of the God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Harel administers his test

Pharen’s jaw audibly dropped at the scene beyond. Variously colored torches were lit along the walls, small white orbs hung suspended in midair, emanating a soft green glow. The eerie lighting was nothing compared to what sat in the center of the room on a pedestal – an orb, much like Fen’Harel’s own, only this one was not glowing with power; it instead sat silent. Dropping Fen’s hand and walking closer to it, she noted there was no inscription within it like the orb she had held during the final fight. Furrowing her brow, she turned to a peacefully calm Fen’Harel, questions alight in her eyes. _“Ma da’enansal_ , do you remember speaking to me of the constellations?” Pharen bit her lip and nodded minutely, still stunned by what sat before her.

 

“All gods of the pantheon have their own constellations. Your final test is to make your own.” Pharen’s eyes lost their faraway look and stared, shocked, at Fen’Harel. He chuckled. “I am Fenrir. Elgar’nan is Solium, Tenebrium is Falon’Din. I will safely assume that I do not need to continue, _ma vhenan_.” Pharen’s shocked expression did not falter; she had never thought that the constellations she so often sought after with Fen’harel’s shrine were actually depictions of gods of the pantheon. _Fenedhis_ but she could be inane sometimes.

 

His expression turned serious once more. “Use your magic on the orb to project the night sky. I trust that you know it well?” He was guiding her closer to the orb on the pedestal, not yet humming with any power. Pharen nodded at his question, her magic flaring within her hands, anxious to get his test over with. Fen’Harel laid a hand on her shoulder, instantly calming her nerves. She lifted her hand to rest over his and gave a gentle squeeze. “I’m ready,” she said.

 

Taking a deep breath, she began casting at the orb, slowly filling it with her own energy. As she did, her normal magic began to take on a green haze, and she watched as she channeled bits of the fade into the artifact. The nether realm twisted and twirled and bent to her will, surrounding and filling both her and her foci. Once the orb was glowing a brilliant shade of green, she began to concentrate on the stars she had so often sought out at night, no matter where her clan had been camped.

 

She thought of the night that she and Fen’harel had been together, a warm blush rising from her chest into her cheeks as she casted and determinedly averted her eyes from the Wolf. She realized she was pouring a bit of herself into the orb, as the swirling green mist trapped inside began to pulse in time with the beat of her own heart. Calming her breathing and once more focusing on the stars that night, one by one they began to appear in the room around them. Each star, each constellation, each moon was in its proper place.

 

She mentally chose a spot next to Fenrir, and began to move the stars around it. She chose two bright stars for the tips of the ears, one bright star for the tip of the tail, and four stars for the tips of two paws. Satisfied with her work, and connecting the dots so Fen’Harel could see what she had chosen. Once the final dot was connected along the tail, the power from it surged down into the orb, causing the orb to glow bright white for a mere second before imploding internally on itself.

 

Pharen looked up proudly to the Dread Wolf, who was smiling in return. “A fennec? Interesting choice, _ma vhenan_. Though they are not as clever as a wolf, they are playful yet cautious creatures.” He hummed his approval next to her. Gesturing her forward to the newly-infused foci, she laid her hand upon it to feel it tingling and vibrating under her touch. Lifting it from its resting place on the pedestal, she began to notice small rings were beginning to form at the foci’s heart. Seeming to know she was going to ask a question, Fen’Harel moved to stand next to her and explain. “Those rings are somewhat like a finger print, if you will. They assist us in channeling our power, true, and this helps us to know which of the orbs belongs to whom.”

 

Pharen looked down at the orb that was safely nestled in her arms, not glowing now that there was no power being channeled into it. Suddenly curious about the ritual she took part in, she looked to the Wolf. “What did I drink from the shrine?” He raised a curious eyebrow for a mere moment before the dawning of understanding lightened his features. “Ah. That would be the Well of Eternity, or _Vir’bellanaris_. The Pathfinder led you there, did it not? That would mean the golden halla found you worthy of drinking from the pool of immortality, alongside my sentinels. Though for now, I believe that is enough questions, and I insist that you _sleep_.”

 

With that, Pharen entered a dream state in which Fen’Harel was waiting for her. He gathered her up in his arms, kissing her mouth with an intense fire that had yet to be sated, tilting her back until her hair could touch the ground. “Tomorrow, we discover what you should be the goddess of, _ma sa’lath_.” She had never seen him so at peace and so happy, the worry in his brow was gone, and the look he was giving her was more than enough to send her to her knees.


	13. The Goddess of...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharen is put to the last remaining test in order to become one of the ancient Elvhen

Pharen awoke nestled safely in Fen’Harel’s embrace, his sheer body heat keeping them both warm, though the fire had died some time during their rest. She felt him nuzzling against her neck, and smiled sleepily. “Good morning, Fen,” she said, giggling. Turning over and climbing astride him, she took his face in her palms, and pressed her forehead against his. He sighed against her, wrapping his arms around her waist in an effort to bring her closer.  
  
“I have been awake for some time. You realize you kick in your sleep? And snore? And you stole the covers. I was freezing!” Drawing back, Pharen playfully hit his arm in mock indignation. “I do no such thing! You have no proof!” Even as she finished her sentence, she looked over to the side of the bed in which she had been sleeping. More than half of the blanket that had been covering the bed was on the floor on her side. Seeing this, she raised her arms in surrender. “Alright, alright, not very godlike but hey, at least I’m comfy to sleep on.”  
  
Fen’Harel grinned at that, sitting up from the bed. “You continue to surprise me. That is more woman-like than it is godlike.” Grinning wider, he ducked a blow from a pillow thrown by Pharen.  Allowing his smile to fade, albeit slightly, he locked his gaze with her playful one.  “Today, we discover what you are best at. Or, rather, what comes easy for you. Aside from magic and travelling back in time, of course.” Pharen narrowed her eyes at him, though unable to keep up the ruse for long, she cracked a small grin.  
  
Fen’Harel arose from the bed and strode over to a small cabinet in the far corner of his quarters. Waving a hand over the doors, they opened to reveal a softly glowing light beyond it, though his body blocked her view of the object. Taking the object and replacing the wards surrounding the piece of furniture, he walked over to her, and placed it in her hands. “Here, this is what you must wear today. This will protect you, much like the sentinels’ armor does them.” Looking down into her hands, she realized it was clothing, and it was humming with a power not unlike her own.   
  
In awe, she stood from his bed, and held the fabric at the shoulders, and allowed the rest to cascade toward the floor. The very orbs she used to cast when she was with her clan to provide light were embedded into the fabric itself, which caused it to glow. Pharen hesitantly held the collar up to her chest – it was a dress. Holding it out in front of her, she found the hem of the clothing and pulled it over her head. Once she did, the dress began to mold itself to her curves.  
  
The collar dipped low and came to a solid “V” above her belly button, the sleeves flowed like water down the length of her arms, knotting themselves just above her wrists to keep them secured. The hem traveled upwards to meet with the very edge of the “V”, and spread across her body, spanning the orbs across her torso and legs. The fabric once more knotting itself, this time to just above her ankles, and leaving her feet bare. The white orbs seemed to pulse with her very own heartbeat.  
  
Pharen extended her arms and swirled around to test the dress, smiling proudly at the way it melded to her, accentuating things she wasn’t sure she had to begin with. “I love it! Why this though?” Fen’Harel had been silently appraising her, watching the fabric flow across her skin. Now he looked to her, locking his cerulean gaze to her own. “The orbs draw power from the one who wears it, thereby making its wearer more powerful. They also can detach from the armor itself, assisting you with your barrier, should your magic react harshly to anything we try today.” Pharen cocked her head to the side, furrowing her brow.  
  
“So, you’re saying that in order to see what I’m good at, I have to find things I’m bad at, too?” The Wolf chuckled, shaking his head. “Since you put it that way…” Fen’Harel inclined his head to the door behind her which opened, revealing six dark blue eyes staring at her from the blackness behind the door. “Da’fen!” Pharen cried, opening her arms in greeting. What bounded out was not the Da’fen she had seen last however; this was a noble beast, the one meant to protect her.  
  
Da’fen had grown to nearly the size of the Dread Wolf himself, his fur sparkling as he neared her. The green from the Beyond had near vanished as he grew, leaving a purely silver full-grown wolf before her. The spines along his back had grown and came to a sharp point at the edges, much like his ears. Pharen held her arms open wider for the wolf to come to her. Da’fen held his head high and walked slowly toward her, nuzzling against her chin even as she remained standing.  
  
“You’ve grown so big! You’re such a good boy Da’fen!” Da’fen, to his credit, let out a small whuff in annoyance, as if to tell her he was no longer just a pup. Fen’Harel smiled smugly. “You are terrible with training animals, so I believe we can mark that off the list of things in which to test you with.” He chuckled at the glare she shot him from above Da’fen’s monstrous head.   
  
Commanding the pup to sit, then to stay, Pharen meandered to the Wolf, smiling smugly that she had gotten him to listen to her. “You were saying?” She couldn’t keep the grin creeping into her voice. Raising an eyebrow, Fen retorted, “You were saying?” Following his gaze, Pharen turned to see Da’fen rolling in the blanket that had fallen off the bed, his tongue lolling happily out of his mouth.  
  
The color drained from her face, and she sighed, turning once more to the Dread Wolf. “Point taken. May we move on?” Fen’Harel nodded in agreement, leading her out to the front courtyard where many sentinels had taken up residence. One sentinel in particular rose to his feet, inclining his head to Pharen, and kneeling down in front of Fen’Harel. “Master, everything is ready, at your leisure.” Fen’Harel curled his lips and his body tensed in what was obvious disapproval before reaching a hand forward, pushing away the elvhen’s hood.  
  
Bending slightly, the Dread Wolf placed a hand at the sentinel’s shoulder, his expression and demeanor softening visibly. “Vir’tel, you are _lethallin_ here, in this temple you call home. I must request of you to call me Fen’Harel.” The man shook slightly before raising his eyes to meet the Wolf’s. Pharen felt immense sorrow for this sentinel; he had to have been through much to react in such a way. The man had no visible slave markings, though he must have had a harsh master, before the Dread Wolf.   
  
Rising from his former position, the elvhen named Vir’tel stood toe to toe with the elvhen god. “ _Ma serannas_ …Fen’Harel.” Fen bowed his head and allowed a small smile to pass across his lips, before turning to Pharen, who was watching the sentinel walk away with his head held high. “His former master was Andruil. After she began to hunt in the Void and steadily became less sane, he was one of the first she hunted. She had an arrow nocked and ready to end his life when she discovered he was asking questions regarding her sanity. Andruil was very displeased, even more so when Da’Fen and I took him in.”  
  
Pharen had canted her head to the side, listening as he regaled his tale, and her eyes widened at his admission. “You saved him?” Fen’Harel nodded. “Yes, we did. Da’Fen and I happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Pharen saw a flicker of sadness cross his features, before he schooled his expression once more. “I have decided it best that we begin with the elements, see if you have any connections to them outside being a mage. Are you prepared?”  
  
Pharen nodded once, and almost immediately felt an immense pressure against her neck which traveled down her spinal cord. The pressure turned to ice water that trickled through her veins, nearly freezing her solid. But before she could mount a defense, she icy feeling left her, causing Pharen to blink up at Fen’Harel in confusion. “Hmm. Not ice, then. Perhaps you could summon a weapon from the Beyond?” He eyed her anxiously, awaiting her response. She closed her eyes and sank into the deepest recesses of her mind, attempting to envision a weapon from her time. A greatsword, perhaps?  
  
The sound of clanging metal through air caught her attention, followed by a soft chink. Opening her eyes, Da’Fen was holding a blade nearly the length of his body in his teeth, the edge of it mere inches from her throat. Sheepishly, she looked to her teacher, who was grinning. He strode toward the pair, relieving the pup of his burden, and turned it over in his hands. “This is a weapon from your future, then?” Pharen nodded. “Good. I have an idea. Stand in front of the summoning font.” Fen’Harel gestured to a large stone block in the very center of their area, surrounded by glyphs of varying colors and sizes on the ground.  
  
“Please, _da’enansal_ , indulge me. Focus your energy on simply the act of summoning, but not summoning anything in particular. Focus on the raw power of your magic alone.” Pharen did as she was told, and without realizing it, had begun to cast energy into the font, much as she had with her foci. The font itself began to bend and twist into a form, a form that rose from the ground sharply and towered over the trio’s heads; branches and vines began spouting up from under her feet, swirling ever upward before forming an arch.   
  
The center of the arch began flowing with water, which cascaded several feet to either side in a curtain before them. Pharen watched in awe as the vines roped themselves together at the edges of the screen of fluid, connecting them. The water began to shimmer and glow white, the orbs on her dress infusing the stream with power. As the water began to rush from the apex, ever faster, small threads of magic began to weave their way into each droplet, before finally glowing a brilliant white as the orbs danced around her.  
  
Raising her arm to temporarily shield her, she felt her magic stop pouring into the summoning font, and her mana began surging forward toward whatever she had made. Pharen dropped her arm to admire her handiwork only to feel her jaw drop at what she had created. She looked to Fen’Harel, who looked every bit the part of Pride. Hands clasped behind his back, he slowly walked forward to the font, stopping mere inches from it. “I am impressed, _ma vhenan_. I have not seen anyone with the ability to create an eluvian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% certain on this chapter, though I hope I can convey what I was trying to do here. As always, comments and kudos make my day! <3


	14. What...is this place?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A headcanon version of how temples are made. NSFW stuff ensues

Pharen stood, transfixed, in front of the portal she had created. It was only when she became acutely aware of Fen’Harel’s lips next to her ear that she broke from her reverie. “I’m sorry, what?” She made eye contact with him, and couldn’t stop the flush that crept across her chest at his mouth so very close to her own. He smiled, prideful, and repeated, “I said we should probably let the pantheon know you are, in fact, a goddess now. Though I will admit I am curious what we will find on the other side. Shall we?” Pharen nodded, not realizing she grabbed his hand for reassurance as she placed her other hand, palm up, on the surface of the eluvian.  
  
She felt her stomach lurch forward then back, as if skidding to a halt after sprinting. What her eyes feasted on was absolutely beautiful – a rich green forest floor rose up in between her toes, the blades tickling against her skin. Large trees surrounded them, some of their trunks as large as the Fen’Harel statue that sat within his temple. Their eyes reached ever-skyward, noting how far up the treetops reached, up into the clear sky, which she noticed after a fashion, was tinged with a swirling green mist. Pharen’s jaw audibly dropped, and was met with a chuckle at her side.  
  
“It is beautiful, is it not?” Fen’Harel squeezed her hand gently, assuring her it was all very much real. Pharen began to move forward, following a pathway through the massive trees. They wound themselves through the thicket, and eventually came upon a clearing with a fountain at its center. The fountain, she realized, looked like a large mage’s staff, the bauble at the top gleaming from the sunlight reflect off its waters. Looking around, she saw several halla, a few fennecs, and the Dread Wolf at her side, watching her.  
  
“It is beautiful, for certain. Though…where are we? Are we still in Elvhenan?” Fen paused, pondering his answer. “I believe we are, yes, though this area is unfamiliar to me. Perhaps it has yet to be claimed?” He cautiously let go over her hand, immediately missing her warmth. Pharen walked to the very center of the clearing, and held her hand out for Fen’Harel to take. As he took it, she began to speak, “ _Garas atisha adahlen, in uth lath. Ar lath ma vhenan._ ” As she spoke, blue and white orbs began to cross from the Beyond, forming a large, ornate door to their right, dancing around them in happiness.  
  
The orbs began to swirl faster and faster, much like a fast-flowing river, more orbs began to be summoned as the spell grew stronger the more her magic surged within her. They both watched as the orbs began crafting small statues, some of fennecs, some of wolves, others of great weapons, some of dragons, even some crows. The orbs surged upward in waves, creating crystalline walls that glimmered slightly before becoming solid in their presence. Stone steps were formed in front of the ornate door, and Pharen clutched to Fen’Harel’s hand as she pulled him through. Looking up, all the pantheon’s constellations lit the star-lit ceiling, the walls were bare, save for a few veilfire torches that had yet to be lit.  
  
As they continued to walk down the pathway made of fennec fur, following the orbs’ display, some of the walls remained glimmering, a small fragment of the Beyond anchoring them to this place. They walked until the orbs began construction of the final room – a room in which a behemoth statue was at its center, each of the pantheon’s likeness formed in a corner of it. Clockwise beginning from the left was the carving of Mythal, which connected a wisp of her hair to Elgar’nan. Elgar’nan’s hand extended to Andruil’s bow at her back, and the base of the bow connected itself to June. June’s hammer melded its way into Sylaise’s fire, which burned brightly next to the Great Wolf. The Wolf’s tail extended to Dirthamen’s cloak, snaking its way upward, and the edge of Dirthamen’s hood was molded into Falon’Din’s friendly hand, as if he was trying to take it away.  
  
The base of the statue began filling with water, each a different color from the last, depicting their auras. Fen’Harel stood in awe for a moment, before striding up to his own likeness, petting the Wolf’s snout lovingly. The green pool at their feet began to glow brightly in his presence. Curious, Fen’Harel whispered “ _Fen’Harel enansal_ ”, and watched as the water glow ever brighter before forming a portal in front of their very eyes. “This goes to my temple, I assume?” He asked, turning to face Pharen. She nodded. “I can’t tell you how I know that but…it seems all the different colors of the water do similar things once the passwords are said within a certain range of the statues themselves.”  
  
“You continue to impress me, _vhenan_. Welcome to your first temple.” He smiled warmly, beckoning her to him. Pharen pressed her face into his robes, clutching at the fabric at his shoulders.  She sighed contentedly as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his arms surrounding her and making her feel safe; she let out a small huff in annoyance when he pulled away. “I do believe I made a promise to you, _da’enansal_. One I was intent on keeping. If you would permit me?” Pharen furrowed her brows in confusion, before dropping her hands to her sides.  
  
Fen’Harel  kneeled before her, and held his palms downward on the floor. Casting his eyes upward and meeting her gaze, he began to recite an oath to her that was as old as time itself: “ _Ma asha, ma vhenan, ma atisha,_ ” he began. “I am lost, broken and weary, and unable to find my way. You have given me purpose. I am clearly unable to let this go…let you go. I am surrendering to the gravity of the unknown. I promise to protect you and visit vengeance upon those who harm you, a thousand nightmares unleashed upon they and their kin until their untimely death that will be foreseen for millennia. I promise to honor you as you deserve, not as Solas thought you did, but as I know you do. I love you.”  
  
Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized that he was baring himself to her, the most she’d seen of him. Fen’Harel  rose up and drew her into a lover’s embrace, softly twining his fingers in her hair, and bringing them close so he may never lose her scent. “I promised I would be your first worshiper, _vhenan_.” He smiled, the warmth she saw there was nearly overpowering in its intensity. A flash of mischief danced in his eyes the more she locked her gaze with his, however.  
  
“You worshiped me when none other would. Indeed, I find it only fair I return the favor.” His words grew softer as his lips reached the tip of her ear, softly nipping at the edge of the hollow, causing her to shiver in his embrace. Tracing his tongue down to the lobe, he draws it into his mouth, eliciting a soft moan from his lover. Pharen’s arms remained around his waist, though she would occasionally press her fingertips lightly into his back as he discovered a sensitive spot. He discovered very quickly that her neck was a favorite place for him to be. Fen dragged his tongue down the length of her neck, biting down where her pulse quickened against his touch.  
  
Pharen tilted her head to the side, to provide him more access, and Fen quickly took advantage of the extra exposure. Biting down enough to leave a shallow mark, and forcing a guttural moan from her, his deft fingers found the hem of her shirt, right before he found her full lips parted for him. He did not hesitate to draw her lip into his mouth, and deft fingers found the belt keeping the goddess’ robes together. Before he had a chance to undo the clasp, however, she pressed her hands over his own, effectively stopping his wandering.  
  
“No, _vhenan_. Let me.” Pharen stepped away from him, just out of arms reach, before undoing the clasp. She revealed one shoulder, then another, as she let the enchanted armor slide off her lithe frame. A feral growl could be heard rumbling low in his throat, and he made to move toward her, but she only stepped away. She softly admonished him, shaking her head in disapproval. He understood, and took a step back, though the wolf within him was straining for release, pacing back and forth at the edges of his consciousness.  
  
The garment began to slide off of her once more, her full breasts shown to him inch by tantalizing inch, her arms freeing themselves of their restraints. Turning away from him, Pharen shimmied the rest of the robes down, allowing it to pool at her feet. She then hooked her thumbs in her smallclothes, swaying her hips slightly, before inching the offensive garment down her backside. She heard a louder, more possessive growl come from him this time, and did not stop him when he came for her.  
  
Fen’Harel’s arms encircled her small waist, his fingertips pressing into her hips as he kneaded her flesh and pulled her backward toward him. She fit perfectly against him, his straining length becoming encased within her cheeks, making him groan against her ear. Leaning his head down, she tilted her head to the side once more, and felt his lips ghost along the area in which he marked her earlier.  
  
This time, he bit her fully, drawing both blood and a pleased moan from her. The sight and smell only spurred him on, and he knew it would not be long until he lost control of the Wolf within him. He spun her around to face him; her lips parted and panting from his touch made him give her a feral grin. “You are aware what you do to me, _vhenan_?” He pushed his erection forward, causing her to gasp. “If you do not, I will show you. I cannot promise I will not hurt you, however. The Wolf is…not easy to control once allowed to roam free.”  
  
Pharen could see the concern etched in his face, yet she trusted him. Though the Wolf was, by all accounts, dangerous, something about it made her worry her lip in anticipation. It did not go unnoticed. “ _Ma nuvenin_.” Pressing against her enough to make her fall into the wall behind her, he reached down and deftly undid his own bindings before pressing into her once more. Grabbing the entirety of her ass in both hands, and pulling her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, with one thrust he sheathed himself in her.  
  
She desperately clawed at his back in a vain attempt to get traction as she slipped down from his grasp. This only made him growl, and he could begin to feel the welts and scratches she was leaving on him. Grasping her hips, he moved against her, sheathing himself fully each time, and each time his name was on her lips; he did not bother to silence her. Their breathing became ragged as he clutched her tightly to him, their mana pooling together and surging as if one. Pharen closed her eyes and allowed her head to go back against the wall before her own walls tightened and clenched around him. “ **Look at me** , _vhenan_. I ** _would see you come undone_**.”  
  
She gave a loud cry of ‘ _take me Dread Wolf_ ’ as he hit just the right spot, his words forcing her over the edge, moaning for him to go harder, faster, _vhenan_ please.  
He was not far behind. The Wolf growled and snarled, then howled as he spilled himself deep within her, grunting as his thrusts became more and more shallow. He held her there in his arms, pressing his forehead to hers before lifting her off of him. She gave a sultry wink as she walked by, causing heat to rise within him once more. He watched her gather up her things, his grin growing bigger when he saw the marks at her back and at her shoulders. She was truly marked now, by someone who would give their life for her. It was the most content the Dread Wolf had ever felt, sitting in her temple, with her laying in his lap as he watched over her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! Life gave me a swift kick in the squishy parts and...struggling with depression...this is what happened. There had to be some NSFW stuff since the next chapter will pick back up more in-depth on story.
> 
> UPDATED to say that I was listening to "Pet" and "Gravity" by A Perfect Circle while writing this. More Perfect Circle muses are coming.


	15. Meeting the Pantheon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharen faces the pantheon

““ _Ma vhenan_ , you are aware that we have to go summon the rest of the pantheon now? Unless you would prefer to put it off for longer, in which case I completely support that in favor of staying here with you.” Pharen smiled sleepily up at Fen’Harel, the corners of her vision blurring slightly from the light that was reflecting off the light and the water in the temple. Groaning slightly and sitting up, she sighed softly. “We need to talk to the pantheon, _vhenan_. I don’t want Elgar’nan’s wrath to be anywhere near me if he finds out what I can do before we tell him”  
  
Fen’Harel nodded in acceptance. “If you would not mind terribly, I can summon them here so we may begin?” Seeing her confusion, Fen’Harel summoned the Wolf, the giant, jet black, six-eyed Roamer of the Beyond now stood before her. He bowed his head, albeit slightly, before allowing his ears to fall back against his skull, his head tilted up to allow a howl like no other to come from the very depths of the Dread Wolf himself.  
  
Pharen watched in awe as members of the pantheon began to glide up from the depths of the statue behind her, being summoned by his call. The waters glowed eerily as each member rose from the water’s depths. Elgar’nan came first, his water glowing bright white as he stepped forward into the hall. Looking around imperiously, his gaze finally settled on Pharen herself. His eyes narrowed in anger, but he did not speak; instead, he stood across from his eluvian, and crossed his arms to wait for the others. Each came in turn, and settled themselves either against the walls or sat on the fur floor of her temple. Some looks she garnered were kind; others, such as Andruil’s, were fiery with hatred.  
  
Once all had arrived, Fen’Harel changed back into his elvhen form, and walked slowly toward Pharen. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered to be careful, cunning, and swift, for the pantheon is vain. He would be watching. With that, Fen’Harel took a seat in between Sylaise and Dirthamen, kicking his legs over his seat, much like he did in routine pantheon meetings, and waited for her to speak.  
  
Clearing her throat, and trying to gather what strength she had, she addressed the entirety of the most powerful of the elvhen in Elvhenan. “Friends, you have been summoned here to pass judgement upon my skills as a goddess. I have passed each test administered by the Dread Wolf himself, I have drank from the well to gain my immortality, and I have proven my gift with eluvians, as you can very well see. Today, I humbly request to become a part of the pantheon that is so revered here.” Pharen stopped speaking, and consciously made an effort to not worry her lower lip in nervousness.  
  
Not one person applauded her for standing in front of them, not one person gave her an angry stare. It seemed they were all at a loss for words, until a loud, booming laugh echoed across the hall. “You absolutely, positively cannot be serious in this endeavor da’len! You have no followers!” June yelled. Pharen bowed her head slightly in silent acknowledgement to June. “True. Yet, I am willing to find followers, if that is what you ask of me in your own form of a test, as it were.” June’s smile faded, before coming back in full force. “Of course _da’len_! You find followers, I will happily put you in the pantheon to be praised, worshiped for millennia! How about it,” he asked the remainder of the pantheon.  
  
“I disagree. Fully. She should be stripped of whatever powers she claims and rendered useless. Just as she has always been and will always remain to be. All she is, is a pet to that _pup_.” Andruil sneered. “She went through these supposed tests without acknowledgement from any of us, save Fen’Harel, because as his new plaything, he can flaunt the rules for her.” She scowled at Pharen, a disdainful look in her eyes, her mouth downturned into a severe frown. “You do not belong here. You are a mistake. You will not take what has not been given.” Andruil had leapt to her feet and strode toward Pharen, stopping mere inches from her face; she could feel the body heat from the elvhen goddess, but did not cower before her ire.  
  
“Come now, Andruil, do not be so harsh as to pass judgement on a potential goddess, especially within her own halls.” A soft voice spoke from behind Pharen. She whipped around to see Mythal, long, flowing white hair, her eyes soft and golden, and holding Pharen’s gaze. “Dear, sweet girl. You know much, yet so little. I wonder, then, if fate has decided to place you here, with us, or merely happenstance that you arrived here? I can never decide.” Mythal’s hand tucked under Pharen’s chin, inspecting her closely, her eyes boring into her, before seemingly coming to a decision. “I approve. On the condition she can amount some sort of following.”  
  
Mythal nodded to Pharen before moving back to Elgar’nan’s side. A kind voice rose from the silence. “A gift, presented to a member of our pantheon. I daresay she is here by fate, Mythal. I agree with June and Mythal; garner a following, and you will become a member within our ranks.” Falon’Din smiled at Pharen, his kindness showing in every way. She chanced a glance at Dirthamen beside him, who was one of the few remaining who had not said anything; the glare in which he fixed Pharen with suggested that he did not agree with his kin.  
  
An eruption of fire from the other side of the statue caught Pharen’s eye. She peeked around the statue to see Sylaise, playing with embers on the ground, forcing them to grow very hot, starting a fire, then forcing them to super cool themselves into glimmering gems. She was surrounded by several small mountains of them; Pharen could only assume this is what she had been doing the entire time. Upon feeling eyes upon her, Sylaise looked up and met Pharen’s gaze, and simply stated, “No.” She did not bother to go into any further explanation, and returned to her task of making gems.  
  
That left Elgar’nan and Fen’Harel who had yet to make their opinions known. Turning slightly to face the All-Father, his fiery gaze had not settled, and he was a sight to behold; Elgar’nan stood tall, long dark hair framed his pale skin, the crown upon his head displaying a sun and moon, each revolving in turn around a temple in the center. Lacing his fingers together and narrowing his gaze once more upon Pharen, he leaned forward to inspect her. “You formerly had vallaslin.” Pharen audibly gulped as he neared her, his finger tracing the lines of where June’s slave markings had once been.  
  
Noting her discomfort, Elgar’nan drew back, a small sneer on his face. “Call that my test. Once you are able to tell me why they were removed, I will give you my blessing to become an Elvhen goddess in the pantheon.” Pharen murmured a soft “Thank you” before Fen’Harel finally spoke. “I removed them. She was in my temple. What more reason do you need?” He said, nonchalantly, as if he were talking about the weather or the stars in the sky.  
  
Elgar’nan’s face began to flush red for mere seconds before Mythal was at his side, sending calming magic across the length of his body. “ _Ma nuvenin_ , pup. I will take your answer.” He was still sneering as he rounded on Pharen. “You have my blessing, _da’len_ , to go through with this.” He then angrily stomped toward his face in the statue, whispering to it, before his likeness opened up and allowed him to step through to the other side.  
  
It was Mythal who finally broke the silence, “You have been given judgement, Pharen. You will amass a following, and be guided into the pantheon. Once complete, you will have your place amongst us. _Dareth shiral._ ” With that, everyone save for Fen’Harel got up and glided to their eluvians, whispering amongst themselves and to their statues, before all but three people remained. Andruil bowed her head in front of her mirror, and cast a glare at Pharen, and redirected it to the Wolf who sat lazily in the corner. “This is not over, Wolf.” She sneered. Fen yawned, and made a shooing motion for her to be on her way. Andruil scoffed but stepped through the portal anyway, and was swallowed up quickly. Only Pharen and Fen’Harel remained.  
  
“That was…tense. Are you alright, _ma vhenan_?” He walked over to her, and gently gathered her in his arms before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, as he so often did in private moments like these. “I’m alright. Though I have no idea how I’m going to get people to follow me when they have no idea who I am or what I can do. How did you get a following?” Fen’Harel grinned smugly, as if he’d known all along this was to take place. “I have an idea. You remember how much I detest slavery? I have several ideas on how to amass several thousand elvhen into your service. You have only to ask.” Curious, she gestured for him to go on.  
  
“Come, walk with me. I need you to channel your foci into the summoning font, and see where we end up.” “What do you mean ‘see where we end up?’” The Dread Wolf smiled but said nothing as he handed her foci to her. Pharen did as he asked, pouring her magic into the foci, and thereby channeling that magic into the summoning font. A sickening tearing sound, and then an eerie green glow poured from behind them. Turning, she noticed a rip in the fade had been opened, and she stopped casting her magic into the orb. “Come, _vhenan_. We have someone to save.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This..REALLY ran away with me. Please let me know if I did them justice?


	16. The repercussions of meeting the pantheon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the terms are set

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AS A WARNING  
> The is some torture in this. I tried to skim over it as best I could. 
> 
> All Elvhen is from the DA Elven Language Wiki Page  
> Ar lasa mala revas - you are (now) free  
> Emma shem'nan - My revenge will be swift

They stepped through the tear, into a dark and cramped cell with no windows and no light. Surrounding them was the putrid smell of blood and burning flesh, screams were echoing off the walls from a room adjacent to the one in which they now stood. Exchanging a worried glance, Fen’Harel cast behind him as they ran toward the screaming, effectively sealing the tear she’d made. They sprinted a short distance down a cobbled hallway, and nearly kicked in the door from which they heard the screams.  
  
Before them was a truly gruesome sight; several elvhen men and women were stripped down to nothing, spinning slowly on a creation that could only be described as a roasting pit. Their hands were tied so tightly behind them that their wrists bled into the roaring blaze beneath them. Occasionally a flame would get too high, and lick against the flesh of one of the slaves, causing them to scream out in agony. “We have to save them!” Fen’Harel yelled, desperate to remove them all from their imminent fate.  
  
They both scrambled to slaves, gathering them up into their arms and removing them from the spinning spear in the center to which they were tied. Fen’Harel gathered the last elvhen, an elderly man, from the device, and set him gently on the floor with the rest. They all had June’s vallaslin marked plainly on their faces. Pharen fought to meet each and every one of them in their eyes; they were afraid. “I’m Pharen. Please, we’re here to help you.” Uncertain what to do, she began to pool her magic into a cobblestone closest to the old man. He recoiled in fear. “Please, trust us _hahren_. I know it isn’t easy, but please.” The old man nodded and bent his head down in submission. Anger at the god whom she used to revere spread like wildfire in her veins; her sympathy for the slaves was deep, and she knew at once what Fen’Harel had meant.   
  
He means for us to save the slaves of each of the Creators. They would revere me for saving them, and giving them a better life. Meeting Fen’Harel’s panicked gaze, she nodded, and forced her magic to flow ever-faster along the stones. An eluvian was summoned, and they helped each and every slave in the torture room get through to the other side safely. Fen’Harel and Pharen both began to sprint into and out of the remaining chambers in the dungeon they were in, ushering slaves of varying weight and age into the torture room and through the eluvian. Once all had been saved, they stepped through themselves, and Pharen sealed the eluvian behind her.  
  
They surveyed the former slaves, who looked confused as to where they were. Fen’Harel approached one of the younger slaves, barely old enough to have vallaslin emblazoned on her fair skin, and sat down in front of her, barely suppressing an angry growl. “ _Da’len_ ,” he spoke gently to the frightened girl, who pulled her gaze up to his own. “Would you like me to remove them?” Her eyes widened at his suggestion, before enthusiastically nodding her head. Smiling serenely, he tilted her chin upwards, his palms ghosting over her chin, her cheekbones, over her eyes, and finally her forehead. The blood writing was gone.  
  
“ _Ar lasa mala revas, da’len_.” Fen’Harel smiled at the young girl, who finally spoke. “But… _hahren_ , I don’t want to be free alone. I want to be free with her.” His brows went up in surprise, before turning and following her gaze to Pharen. She smiled, and got down on her knees in front of the girl. “You can be free with me. Would you like to stay here with me, _da’len_?” The girl nodded enthusiastically again, earning a giggle from Pharen.   
  
“ _Ma nuvenin_.” Looking to Fen’Harel, she gave a small nod and smile. “We have a lot of work ahead of us, vhenan. They all deserve to be free. Let them be free.” With that, Fen’Harel set to work removing all of the slaves’ vallaslins, and, one by one, they knelt before Pharen, and pledged their fealty to her cause. Since their first act of rebellion and trickery, both Pharen and Fen’Harel stole into the other gods’ temples by night, freeing their slaves from their work. Several thousand were amassed in Pharen’s service before one particular slave sought her out at Fen’Harel’s temple.   
  
“My lady! I have urgent news!” Concerned, she stood from her former place on the ground, where she and Fen’Harel had been teaching several of the younger former slaves to read. “What is it, _falon_? What news have you?” The runner was shaking, whether from nerves or exhaustion, she could not tell. Her face turned from concern, to sorrow, to righteous anger as the elvhen man relayed his news.   
  
“ _Ma serannas_. You were correct to bring this to me here. Please, find shelter within the temple’s walls.” The messenger nodded, and sprinted inside, letting the door slam behind him. Fe’Harel rose from his spot on the floor next to her, but did not approach; instead, he watched her facial expressions as she digested the news. “What is it, _ma vhenan_? What has happened?” When she didn’t answer, he grew more concerned, furrowing his brow and reaching for her arm. She did not pull away, but his touch broke her from her reverie. She looked up to him with sad eyes brimming with tears.  
  
When she finally spoke, it was so quiet Fen’Harel almost wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly, even with the Wolf’s hearing. “Falon’Din has declared war. He has taken what remaining slaves that had yet to be freed and is marching them to their deaths in the woods, where Andruil is waiting to begin her hunt.” Fen’Harel’s jaw clenched slightly; this was bad. He knew what kind of wars the god could accomplish alone, but with Andruil backing him up…he did not want to see the consequences of this. “Fen…we have to save them.”  
  
The Dread Wolf nodded, and motioned for one of the children to come to them. She obeyed, and Fen’Harel leaned down to her ear to give her instructions on where and how to hide, and where to lead the others. The small elvhen girl nodded, newly freed from Andruil’s blood writing, and threw herself into Pharen’s arms. Surprised but pleased, she returned the embrace, kissing the girl’s crown before releasing her. She looked up at her with tears streaming down her face. “Please, _hahren_ , come back to us!” With that, the girl turned on her heel, rallying the others to follow her deep into the temple, which would ward itself after the last slave had been hidden in the underbelly of the place they called sanctuary.  
  
When the last sounds of footsteps faded away, Fen’Harel summoned the Wolf, its many eyes glowing red in his anger. Pharen did not hesitate as she pulled herself up to sit on his back, using his scruff to hold her in place. Once he was certain she was secure, the great beast threw its head back in a long, haunting howl that shook the very ground he stood on, and bounded off toward the forest where Andruil always held her hunts.  
  
It seemed like they ran for hours, but maybe it was mere minutes, Fen’Harel sprinting faster and faster as they approach what was sure to be a battlefield. He skidded to a halt in front of a great tree with runes engraved across it. Sniffing the air then growling, he padded to the next runed tree, sniffing once more. This time, a howl was forced from his throat as the smell of fresh blood reached their nostrils. The sounds of people screaming, crying, the whirring of an arrow, and then silence; it sickened them both.   
  
Changing once more into his elvhen form, he turned to Pharen with look of utter contempt. “Cast. When they come, you will know.” With that, he began running toward the sound of the nearest scream, transforming into the Wolf once more as he ran. Once he was out of sight, Pharen began hurriedly casting a giant mirror, fog surrounding her to obscure her from any prying eyes. The eluvian’s center pooled at her touch, seeming to draw into the magic at her fingertips. The forest suddenly became eerily quiet; there was no screaming, no crying, no whirring of an arrow or clang of steel against steel – only silence. It unnerved her.  
  
Pharen waited by the mirror, shifting her weight uneasily from one foot to the other while she waited. Her ears pricked at the nearly noiseless padding of paws toward her. Fen’Harel had gathered hundreds of slaves, all wearing various vallaslins, all their steps as quiet as the Wolf who stood behind them, his size looming over them all. His head canted to the side, and she was able to see fresh blood staining the fur at his shoulders. Pharen, to her credit, did not panic, but silently gestured each and every one of the slaves through the eluvian behind her. Most were through before a loud howl shook the forest, distracting them both. Pharen hurried the remainder of the slaves through, some were wounded, others covered in blood, most crying as they whispered their thanks before disappearing through the mirror’s other side.  
  
Trotting out of the forest and through the fog next to her, Da’fen appeared at her side, his ears pinned back against his skull and snarling fiercely into the grey void that was before her. Fen’Harel had yet to transform out of his Wolf form, presumably he was injured and did not wish her to see the extent of his injuries until they were all out of harms way.  
  
Suddenly, Da’fen leapt up to shield Pharen’s chest. A cry of pain, and a soft thud as he hit the ground was all that resounded through the forest. She barely had time to register that he had just saved her life before the Dread Wolf stepped closer to her, his paws padding softly against the forest floor. He leaned down, pushing Da’fen’s limp form with his nose, and howled with agony. Pharen looked to where Da’fen had been looking and growling and soon saw why- the glimmer of a golden bow could be seen reflecting against the sunlight. Andruil strode toward them with purpose.  
  
Once she reached them, however, anyone could note there was something off. Her armor seemed made of a milky, silvery substance, shimmering but seeming to snake along her body, moving as if of its own volition. Pharen automatically recoiled at the sight.  
Andruil let out a keening cry that chilled her to the bone. She sneered as she looked upon the pair protecting the mirror. “I was just having a bit of fun _da’len_! I hunt them, they die, our dear Falon’Din guides them into the Void, where I can hunt them some more! It’s all good, right?” A chilling laugh echoed through Pharen’s very being. Her eyes narrowed on the goddess. “You hunt them for _sport_! Your own people!” Pharen growled. The Wolf next to her growled deeper.  
  
“You took my playthings, so I take away yours! Your pup is a sacrifice to placate the masses, but me? I want a bigger prize.” Her eyes gleamed with insanity as she spoke of Da’fen, who still lay motionless at their feet. “I promise, _da’len_. _Emma shem’nan_.” Within two blinks of an eye, Andruil had unstrapped her bow and nocked a golden arrow, once more aimed at Pharen’s heart. “I will not miss a third time. Or would you rather your Dread Wolf to pay the price?” Andruil looked to and aimed her bow at Fen’Harel, who now stood in his elvhen form menacingly over Da’fen’s body. Tilting her head back with a snarl on her face, the readied the arrow for its release.  
  
Andruil let loose the arrow, only for both Pharen’s and Fen’Harel’s barriers to come up simultaneously and knock Andruil off her feet. “Run!” Fen’Harel yelled. “Through the mirror!” He managed to grab Da’fen by the scruff and drag him through the portal with them, before forcing it shut. Breathing heavily on the other side, Pharen crawled over to Da’fen’s lifeless corpse. A golden arrowhead protruded from his side, the same silvery substance coursing over it, consuming his body slowly. Pharen began crying, and Fen’Harel drew her into an embrace, speaking soothingly into her hair as she watched Da’fen’s corpse fade as the substance encroached upon it.  
  
Once it had run its course, all that remained was the blackened wolf’s jaw she knew so well. Saying nothing, Fen’Harel reached down and broke the jaw in two pieces, offering the top to her and taking the bottom for himself. Taking it wordlessly, she brushed the pads of her thumbs over the canines, admiring how incredibly sharp they were. Fen’Harel was reaching into his hair to yank free the leather thong that held it in place, and, snapping it in two, he began to wrap each piece separately, thus making them both pendants.  
  
“If I may, _vhenan_?” She nodded, and bowed her head, allowing the necklace to slip over around her neck. Pulling the other piece over his own head, he sighed softly. “I intend to keep this as a reminder that nothing can be taken for granted. No matter how much I think I know, it does not matter. I thought we could abolish all slavery, and rebel together. I was wrong. Now my friend is dead because of me.” He bowed his head in solemn defeat, slightly leaning away from Pharen as they sat on the ground of her temple.  
  
“You couldn’t have known. All things…happen for a reason. Up to and including this. We may not always know why they happen the way they do, but perhaps there is something to learn that we do not yet see?” Her words shook him and he glanced up to meet her gaze. “Ever the optimist, _ma da’enansal_.” He smiled slightly and laid a gentle kiss upon her forehead. “We should tell Elgar’nan of Andruil’s and Falon’Din’s deceit soon,” he whispered in the darkness.   
  
“We should probably go now. Preferably Andruil gets there and spouts lies. We were saving them, not condemning them. Remember that, _ma vhenan_.” Fen’Harel nodded slowly, getting to his feet and walking toward the front of the temple. The summoning howl that came after that was mournful, but Pharen thought she could detect a hint of anger in his tone. This would not bode well. For anyone.


	17. Oops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whose fault is it, exactly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> len'alas lath'din -dirty child no one loves  
> lathbora viran in uth - eternal path to a place of lost love
> 
> elven language taken straight from the DA Wiki

As the pantheon gathered around the statue, accusatory glares were thrown in every possible direction; from Andruil to Elgar’nan himself, there was an intense hatred in the air. Fen’Harel changed back into his elvhen form as he strode back into the temple, his head held high. He did not glance down at Pharen as he passed, nor did he meet the glares of his kin as he settled himself against the very back wall of the temple. Pharen took a deep breath before walking back to the very rear of her temple, wary of what was to come. She had not taken two steps when a loud, angry voice sliced through the already tense atmosphere, shaking some dust from atop the stone pillars.  
  
“ **You! You knew all along she had been planning a rebellion, did you not _pup_**?” Pharen began to run as fast as she could before Elgar’nan could visit his wrath upon Fen’Harel; it was not his fault. He had wanted to save his people from slavery, Pharen needed followers to ascend to godhood, and everyone’s lives would have been better for it. Elgar’nan did not seem to agree with the sentiment. When Pharen burst into the room, slamming the doors behind her, all eyes of the pantheon were upon her. She immediately tensed and froze.  
  
“It’s not his fault! I wanted slavery to end and you said I needed followers but you failed to mention how to get them! It’s not right to enslave and hunt your own kin!” Pharen threw an angry snarl toward Andruil, gesticulating wildly with her hands to assure her point got across. “I got followers! Willing followers that no longer wanted to work under the poor conditions they were found in! Men and women and children were in these pits doing the work that the self-proclaimed gods were supposed to be doing in their own time. We found pits of fire, lash marks, vallaslin that had been engraved into their-“  
  
“ **Silence**!” Elgar’nan bellowed. He strode toward her, grabbing her chin between two fingers and a thumb and forced her to look up at him. A ferocious snarl could be heard behind her, but at this point, all she wanted to do was get out, and she was desperately looking for a way to do so. “ **You dare break into each of our temples and take our slaves. You dare to defy what the pantheon itself stands for. You will not take what is not willingly given. _Da’len_**.” Elgar’nan spat. He roughly forced her chin from between his fingers and forced her back with a surge of a barrier, throwing her against a back wall.  
  
Her back hit the wall with a sickening _crack!_ and before she could register that she was a full thirty feet away from where she had originally stood, Fen’Harel stood above her, snarling, the Wolf forcing its way to the surface. A lightning-fast surge of magic projected itself toward Elgar’nan, who was knocked back several steps once it connected. Temporarily stunned, the rest of the pantheon looked on as Fen’Harel challenged him.  
  
“How dare you, _All-Father_ , attempt to manipulate into our minds that slavery is accepted. “ Fen’Harel snarled, his voice becoming a low and dangerous growl. “Is this what you want? This is the Elvhenan you always wanted? The very people that you claim to defend and protect are demoralized and treated inhumanely under _your care_ and under the _careful eye_ of the remainder of the pantheon. I will not stand idly by and allow this!” His fingernails were turning the charcoal black claws of the Wolf, who was becoming more visible by the second.  
  
“ **You wish to challenge me, Wolf? Do your worst. You cannot possibly hope to best me! I am the beginning and the end, and you are nowhere in between. You have no place here! You are simply here as a request by Mythal!** ” Fen’Harel, now fully Wolf, growled and lunged toward Elgar’nan, who had also taken several steps toward the Wolf. “ _ **ENOUGH**_!” Mythal manifested herself and stood between them, and Pharen could only assume that her barrier had not been put up in time, and it was too late for either of them to stop. Fen’Harel’s jaw locked around Mythal’s throat, and she let out a loud gasp before falling to the floor, unmoving, and blood pooled in the floor around the wound the Wolf had made.  
  
Realizing instantly what he had done, Fen’harel changed back into his elvhen form, backing away very slowly. Elgar’nan fell to his knees before Mythal, cradling her head in his lap, rocking back and forth and began to weep. Fen’harel stopped, stunned at the sharp contrast that fate had weaved. Elgar’nan did not look up from Mythal’s face as he spoke. “ **You will pay here for what you have done. Eternal vengeance shall be visited upon you thousandfold. You will be forever cursed. _Len’alas lath’din,_ Dread Wolf. _Lathbora viran in uth_**.”  
  
Fen’Harel retreated quickly to the back wall where Pharen still lay, watching the entire scene fold out in front of her. “Vhenan. We must leave. Grab your foci from here, and I will get mine from my own temple. Meet me in the room where we first met.” He hauled her to her feet, cast a healing spell and an extra barrier on her, and took off, sprinting toward his temple at full speed. She could only assume she needed to do the same. Surprisingly, she was not stopped by the other members of the pantheon as they gathered around Mythal’s lifeless body.  
  
She grabbed her foci, and ran into the woods, away from her temple. She sprinted toward the eluvian she had crafted before, and vaulted through it, landing in the clearing with the summoning font. Charging full speed into his temple, she skidded to a halt in his worship room, and found him there, kneeling in front of his own statue. His body trembled as he knelt on the floor, and Pharen placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder. He tensed and immediately shied away. When he turned to face her, his eyes were heavy with sadness, regret, and fear.  
  
“You cannot possibly still care,” he scoffed. “You saw me kill Mythal in my fit of rage at Elgar’nan. The slaves, they-“ Pharen shushed him and offered her hand out for him to take. When he did not take it, she decided to let him in on a little secret from the future. “She survives, you know. Mythal. She lives on. But I fear you will be blamed for her ‘death’, as it were.” His features turned from fearful to skeptical in a blink of an eye, and he backed away from her, throwing his hands up in front of him. “She does not yet live. I killed her. The Wolf killed her. I saw her there, dead!”  
  
He was panicking, yet Pharen only shook her head and gave a faint smile. “When have I ever led you wrong? I love you, Dread Wolf, regardless of whatever I’ve seen you do. Here in the past, or in the future. You are doomed to make mistakes, but aren’t we all? Nobody is perfect. We simply learn from mistakes, and become better for having made them. That’s what living is, Fen. The slaves are no longer slaves, Mythal lives, and granted, yes, we probably have the entire pantheon after us now-“ As she spoke, the walls shook, and a bellowing roar of rage was heard over the war drums pounding in the distance.  
  
Sighing and furrowing his brows, he touched his foci and began to charge it with his magic, glowing bright green the more he poured into it. Pharen dug into the robes she still wore and drew out her own foci, also casting into it. Both magics began to swirl together, faster and faster and glowing brighter and brighter until the light was so blindingly bright, both had to stop casting, and threw a hand in front of their faces. When they did, a loud, resounding _boom!_ echoed through the silent chambers, casting out several pulses of energy. Then all was silent.  
  
The swirling magic within both orbs slowed, and finally stilled. They looked to each other for mere seconds, questions in both their eyes, before Fen summoned the Wolf to trod outside to investigate the silence. His padded paws made no sound at all as he stalked the darkness surrounding his temple. There were no war drums, no screaming, nobody running, and no animal sounds through the thicket. He carefully re-traced Pharen’s steps from the eluvian and with a huff, stepped through to the other side.  
  
Once there, all remained as quiet as it had been on their side, chillingly so. Needing to sate his curiosity, he snuck into Pharen’s temple that was now devoid of life. He padded to the back room where Elgar’nan’s wrath had broken free, and was shocked at what he saw-or rather, what he did not see. There were no bloodstains, no corpses, nothing. Then he saw it. A movement out of the corner of his eye. Keeping to the shadows, he snuck to the back where Pharen had lain, and waited.  
  
He had a feeling the movement he saw had something to do with the giant statue in the center, with all of the pantheon linked together. He focused on Andruil’s face in the stone, and as he watched, the pool beneath it began to pulse green, bright red, and fade, then began pulsing again. This repeated for several heartbeats before he padded over, confident she was not hiding in the shadows like he was. Changing back into his elvhen form, he peered over the edge of the statue, into the pool of water, and was both shocked and in awe of what he saw staring back at him. Andruil, the goddess of sacrifice, was staring back at him in the reflection of the pool.  
  
He features were contorted in anger and agony, her nails scraping against the surface of the mirror in an attempt to become free once more. As he walked the edge, he saw all the pantheon safely locked away under the pools that had solidified, all attempting to crawl their way out. He chuckled to himself at the irony that the mistake he had been burdened with by Elgar’nan now locked away the entirety of the gods and goddesses, save for himself. And Mythal, he thought.  
  
Changing back into the Wolf he knew so well, he trotted back to the eluvian in which he came from, and made his way back to Pharen. He was not surprised to see her outside, looking for him. “What did you see?” She asked, cautiously. Fen’Harel smiled, and he laid both his hands on her shoulders and drew her close to his chest. “I can safely assume that our focis were both channeling the same thing, and due to their proximity, began to feed off one another. The resulting pulses caused the pantheon to be summoned back to their respective temples, and sealed the way back.” Pharen sank against him, and she looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “Does this mean we are not going to be hunted?”  
  
Fen’Harel shook his head. “No, we will be hunted. Though I am uncertain how long this sealing will last.” Pharen nodded her head, slowly digesting what he had told her. “I intended to use the foci as a means to channel enough magic into the atmosphere so that it tore, effectively cutting off their means of magic. This…this is much better.” Pharen cocked her head to the side, and tried to cast a small fire in her palm. It took her a few moments, but she eventually summoned a small ball of light. “You made the Veil, then.” She whispered, more to herself than to him.  
  
He was slightly confused but did not press her. “Come, _vhenan_ , we must prepare for uthenera, and hope when we wake up the world will be different than this.” He began walking back into the temple, and held her hand tightly within his own. As she walked behind him, Pharen realized she could now never doubt the fact that she was a goddess. She was about to spend the next couple thousand years sleeping next to the Dread Wolf.


	18. Uthenera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen & Pharen head into uthenera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A giant serannas to a-wolf-thing, without whom this chapter would not have been possible <3

“So, what precisely do we have to do to go into uthenera?” Fen’Harel stopped and turned towards her, dropping her hand. He took a step towards her, and cupped his hand around her jaw, holding her head in place. “ _Ma vhenan_ , we must become vessels to a different world, hope for the best, and when we wake up, not discover that everything we worked for is torn asunder. I have a feeling that will not be the case this time around.” He smiled gently, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Dropping his hand, he turned away and began to walk into the depths of the temple. As they walked, several secret passageways were revealed, each winding their way through the temple, dark stairwells that reached into oblivion, while others simply opened broom closets with false doors.

They reached a staircase that had runes engraved on the stone once they got close enough. The runes glowed green with Fen’Harel’s magic, allowing their entry into the passage. The stairs led down, into the underbelly of the temple. They walked several flights down before coming to a stop in the center of a room with no light. The Dread Wolf alone approached the middle before getting to his knees in the center of the chamber. She heard faint whispers coming from him, and slowly, the room began to light itself.

The walls themselves cast an eerie green glow, beginning at the top of the chamber. Fen’Harel kept whispering, undisturbed by the magic that was coming to life around them. The glow began tracking its way down the walls, growing in brightness, and began rushing towards Fen’Harel like waves of the sea. It began to swirl around him, becoming a thick mist within seconds, and a howling gale began echoing through the chamber. “Fen! Fen’Harel!” Pharen yelled, panicked, from beyond the thick fog. She received no answer other than the wind picking up in velocity, becoming a tornado. Soon, though, the winds died down, and the fog cleared. The Wolf was now kneeling, his hands pressed palm-down to the floor.

She approached him slowly, curious as to what he had done, when a wall of fire rose right behind her. She yelped in surprise, backing away from the heat. The closer she got to him, the more walls rose up. When she finally reached him, the fires died down, but there was now a tracing on the ground. A rune. It faintly glowed green then red, then dissipated.

“What…what did you do?” Fen’Harel rose to his feet, shaking his head. The hazy green glow was still in his eyes when he met her gaze. “We will be safe, _vhenan_. This rune allows us to slumber safely and peacefully, for many years. It takes our own willpower to remove ourselves from it. Though I will warn you – do not, under any circumstances, attempt to remove the foci from its resting place once it is in place.” Pharen furrowed her brows in confusion. “The foci? What does that have to do with-“

She stopped mid-sentence and saw a flash of gold at the edge of her vision. Turning towards it, she saw the most intricate lifeform-sized pods she had ever seen. Pharen walked over to them curiously. Upon further inspection, she realized the gold vessels were meant to hold, not keep, someone. The runes emblazoned on the side suggested they are to stow someone away for centuries, but not allowing them to age. A spherical resting place was at the top of the vessel, connecting it to the chamber itself.

Fen’Harel had approached, and was now standing next to her. She had been so lost in thought as to what they were that she hadn’t heard him. Laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, he explained, “You step into them, place your foci up there, and then lay down to rest. The foci does all else. It sustains you, allows you to go into a dreamless sleep, and when it is time, you will wake. You will know when you are ready.” Fen’Harel pressed his fingers into her shoulder, forcing her to turn and face him.

“ _Ma da’enansal_ , we may not be able to see each other in the Fade. The vessels keep us from harm but they also prevent us from dreaming and waking up too early. _Ar lath ma vhenan_.” Pharen was fighting tears. So this is what uthenera was? Just going to sleep for centuries? Will time pass slowly? Will I remember him when I wake up? Does anything change? Unanswered questions rushed through Pharen’s mind, but she simply nodded, trusting him. There was just one question to ask, then. “What happens if I remove the foci before it’s ready? Or what if I wake before I’m ready?” Fen’Harel heard the worry in her voice, and took her hands in his. When he spoke, his voice was low enough she had to lean in to hear him.

“If you remove the foci, you will alter time itself. The orb allows us to sleep, and if we wake up before our time and alter your history, the consequences could be dire. Please, _vhenan_ , you will know when you are ready.” He took his foci out of his robes, and gestured for her to do the same. “Now, lay in the vessel, I will put your orb in for you. I love you, and I will see you soon.” Pharen was not about to go into uthenera without saying goodbye first. She gently shook her head and she approached him, taking his hands in hers.

“ _Vhenan_ , what are you-“ Pharen shushed him with a gentle press of her lips against his. “If I’m about to go into a dreamless sleep, then I need to say farewell somehow. If something happens, I’d never forgive myself. Please, allow me this.” Tears were welling up in her eyes as she looked at him. His vision became clear once more and he seemed to understand what it was she needed from him. “ _Ma nuvenin, vhenan_.”

He circled his arms around her, pressing her body close to his own. He brought his lips down to hers, but did not meet them. Instead, he allowed her this closeness, and allowed her to take the lead if she wished. Pharen hesitantly brushed her lips against his and Fen’Harel had to fight a responsive groan. She brushed the tip of her tongue against his lower lip, sending shudders down his spine. She was toying with him; but before he could respond, she bit gently down on his lower lip, begging for entrance.

He granted it. She swirled her tongue around his the moment he allowed her, her fingers pressing into the middle of his back and moving upwards to around his neck. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, and he reached around her to place his hands at her backside, effectively pulling her up to him. She groaned at the temporary friction she had access to, his member straining against her heated core.

He knew she did not want it this way, though she would allow it. He began walking toward the corner of the chamber, still kissing her, where he knew yet another passageway was hiding. Kicking where the lever was to the chamber, the door shook then slid out of sight, and Fen’Harel made his way into the chamber itself. It held a bed big enough for two people, and an unlit fireplace. He broke the kiss by turning his head, and she furrowed her brows in confusion, before allowing them to shoot up in surprise when he gently laid her down on the bed. Waving a hand toward the fireplace’s grate, it roared to life, mimicking the feelings of passion in the room.

He quickly slid out of his robes and came to her before she had a chance to undo her own. “Let me, _vhenan_.” She smiled up at him and raised her hands to his head, curling her fingers into his dreadlocked mane. He undid the clasps on the robe, leaning down to kiss every inch of exposed flesh once it was revealed to him. She sharply inhaled each time, filling him with an intense desire to possess her, but he shook it away – tonight was about her. His _sa’lath_.

Fen’Harel undid the last clasp of her robe, and helped her out of it, tossing it to the opposite side of the room. Smiling down at her, he reached up to gently take a pebbled nipple in between two fingers, and began rolling it to either side. Her back arched against his minimal touch. Unbeknownst to her, his resolve was quickly diminishing, though he was determined to not let the Wolf get the best of him this time.

He leaned down to draw his tongue around her other breast, circling his tongue slowly around the flesh surrounding her nipple, drawing ever closer, until he drew the nipple itself past his lips. She groaned lewdly under him, and instead of going with his wolfish instincts to just take her, he released his hold and began trailing soft kisses across her chest and down her belly.

She gave a soft hum of approval as he made his way down to her apex, gently nipping at her hips as he positioned himself in between her thighs. He placed his hands under her backside, lifting her up gently, and allowing her to place her feet against his shoulder blades. He noted that she was already quivering in anticipation. He placed one hand atop her lower belly, where he was certain a fire was lit, and pressed down, simultaneously flicking his tongue against her most sensitive spot. Pharen arched against him, groaning loudly.

He dove his tongue within her slick folds, her arousal overwhelming his wolfish senses, occasionally coming up for a short breath of air, and flicking his tongue against the bundle of nerves at her core. She began shaking and groaning louder, his name coming to her lips in a sweet symphony. He began to suckle at her clit, increasing his pace, not stopping even when she laced her fingers in his hair, and pulled. All at once, Pharen’s thighs locked around his head, and she bucked against his mouth, her torso coming up off the bed as she came, her wetness coating the insides of her thighs.

He gave her several more soft licks before pressing a kiss to the hood of her sex, and moved over her. She grabbed his face and pulled him down into a searing kiss, tasting herself on his lips. She moaned into his mouth as she reached down in between them, pumping him at a quick pace, and it took nearly all of his willpower to place his hand over hers and tell her to stop.

She withdrew her hand quickly from him, afraid she’d hurt him somehow, but he only smiled down at her, before placing himself at her entrance, and giving one thrust, effectively burying himself in her. She locked her legs around him, tilting her hips up to meet the base of his member. Pharen could feel his restraint, not wanting to ruin the tender, long strokes he was giving her in favor of allowing the Wolf to roam free.

His slow, languid strokes quickly became long, hard thrusts within her, rubbing against her very core, making her cry out once more. She was near breathless now, her chest heaving in time with his own. His strokes became quicker, shallower, as they both neared the brink of blissful release. His twitching member finally reached its breaking point, and with a loud cry of her name, he came within her just as her walls clenched around him.

Fen’Harel collapsed on top of her, hugging her to him as he pressed his nose against her neck. Both their bodies were covered in a fine sheen of sweat from their exertions, but neither cared. Though soon, he lifted his head to meet her gaze and kissed her softly, meaningfully.

“ _Vhenan_. It’s time.” Pharen nodded slowly, kissing his forehead, and allowed him to help her off the bed and re-dress her in her robes, afterwards doing the same to him. He took her hand, and led her back up to the main chamber.

Fen led her to her vessel, and helped her up into it. He had a gentle smile on his face as he watched her lay down, and placed the orb in its resting place. A barrier immediately came up over her, the soft whir of the internal machinations of her resting place sprang to life, filling her ears. The orb began spinning, quickly gathering speed.

As she watched, she began to get dizzy, and she thought she felt pulses of magic course through her, stilling the very blood in her veins. She looked up to meet Fen’Harel’s serene gaze, as he pressed his fingers to his lips, and then placed his hand on the barrier above her head. A goodbye kiss was the last thing she saw before she passed out into oblivion.

**XxXxXxX**

Fen’harel watched as her pupils became dilated, and she stopped moving within the chamber that confined her. He smiled softly and took his hand away from the barrier that kept her safe. Turning around, he headed straight for his own vessel when he stopped short. What if it went wrong? What if nothing is the same when we wake up? What if- He forcefully shook his head, trusting that he knew what was best. They would remain in uthenera until their future became intertwined in the future. They would save his foci this time. Smiling contentedly, he heaved himself into his chamber, and placed the foci in its place. Breathing a sigh, he closed his eyes and waited for uthenera to come for him.

**XxXxXxX**

Days became weeks, weeks became months, months became years as they slumbered there in the temple. The world around them crumbled. Some chunks began falling from the temple, vines began snaking their way over the walls and over the chambers. Outside, Pharen’s sentinels remained vigilant in protecting their goddess, for when she went into uthenera, so did they. And they would rise should the need come to protect her or her love. Her sentinels would be there when she awoke. As time moved forward, the world around them became ruin, though the magic remained. It was when time began to slow down that Pharen began dreaming.

She was sitting next to a lake, her feet gently splashing the water toward an unknown elven child with hair as white as snow. “ _Da’len_ , what is your name?” Pharen asked the child, who simply grinned and splashed water back toward Pharen. She furrowed her brow. Something wasn’t right. “ _Da’len_. Your name. Please.” The snowy-haired child stopped splashing and her grin faded slightly. “Goddess Pharen, I am Asha’belannar.” Pharen’s eyes grew wide at the realization of who exactly she had been playing with. “But you-you’re not…you were…how?” Pharen struggled with the right words.

Asha’belannar smiled playfully at Pharen. “It is time. _**Wake up**_.” She awoke with a start, noting first that the orb had stopped spinning, and the barrier had fallen away. The machinations were no longer whirring in her ears. All was silent.

Pharen rose out of her vessel and looked to the one sitting next to her. She hopped out and walked towards it, placing a hand on the barrier itself. She smiled slightly, seeing the Dread Wolf safe in uthenera. Her ears then began acutely aware of a war cry in the distance. Startled, she turned and ran up the several flights of stairs, but there weren’t as many as she remembered. She stopped short when she reached the top, and saw smoke in the not-too-far distance. She heard screaming, then silence. Not trusting her surroundings, she transformed into her fennec form and began to roam the woods surrounding the temple.

Elvhen bodies lay broken outside the ruins. Blood and gore spattered the walls, and everywhere she looked, there was death. Her sentinels, her army, had risen to fight something. But what? She cautiously padded around the temple when she heard voices speaking in a language she did not understand. As she crept around the corner, she saw two hooded figures leaning against the wall of the temple, conversing loudly. The more she listened, the more she realized it sounded familiar. With a jolt, she realized the language. Tevene. She had woken up when Tevinter was invading Arlathan.

Panicking, she attempted to scurry back to the temple, hoping the Tevinters hadn’t seen her. She heard one of them exclaim and then the sounds of boots hitting the ground at a quick pace. Something told her to investigate fully. They hadn’t seen her, after all. She silently moved through the woods, tracking them. She began to run when she heard skin against skin in a hard slap, and something heavy fall to the ground.

She peeked around the corner of the temple, and saw a little girl with bright eyes. The same girl that had said she had wanted to be free. The same elvhen girl that Fen’Harel had made promise to see the others to safety. Pharen did not care that she was about to be seen; all that mattered was saving the girl’s life. Growling, Pharen leapt up from the forest floor, casting a crushing prison spell followed immediately by a ring of ice. “Run!” Pharen shouted to the girl. She did not need to be told twice, as they sprinted back to the temple’s entrance.

Once they were safe just inside the temple, the little girl looked up to her savior. She gasped and threw her arms around Pharen. “You came back _hahren_! I knew you would! I told the others you would come for us!” The child wept into Pharen’s robes, and Pharen circled her arms around the girl’s figure, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. She gently pushed her back, and asked where the others were hiding.

“ _Hahren_ they’re everywhere! At first there were only a few scouts that we took down and I guess when they got taken down, some more came to investigate and they saw us and saw Arlathan and now they mean to take it from us!” The girl began to weep, tears flowing freely, both from grieving at the loss of her country and kin, and from glee at her goddess returning. Frowning, Pharen surveyed the carnage. So many had already been lost. “My goddess, we need your help! Please!” Pharen nodded. “Lead the way."


	19. Battleborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is there ever really a right time for anything?

Pharen’s sentinel led her to an outcropping not far from where she had awoken. Several of the slaves they had freed lay on the ground at the mouth of the cave, some freely bleeding, others she hoped were sleeping. As they walked into the cave, some sentinels nodded their head in recognition of their goddess, while others ran up to her to hug her, thanking her for coming to them in their time of need.

Along the cave’s walls were lit veilfire torches, illuminating the carnage below. Pharen grimaced slightly as she surveyed her surroundings. Her scanning stopped when she reached the back wall; an elvhen man had caught her attention, his white braid falling across a shoulder, and the dark green vallaslin of Mythal stood out among the bare-faced elvhen he surrounded himself with.

“Abelas?” Pharen stepped forward cautiously, unsure if she truly recognized the sentinel. Golden eyes met hers as they snapped up at the sound of his name. Getting to his feet, he walked to Pharen, grasping her hand and bowing his head upon finally reaching her. “Lethallan. It is good to see you.”

“You as well, Abelas. What has happened here?” Abelas closed his eyes slowly, bowing his head once more. “We were overrun. Many of us witnessed yourself and the Dread Wolf go into uthenera. All had been well until recently. Shem magic users began to advance on us, dwindling our numbers with each passing day. It is certainly a surprise that our goddess would return when we needed her. Tell me then, what is your plan?”

Pharen stood and listened quietly, pondering what could be done about the shemlen. “I have an idea, but it must wait until night. Gather everyone. We attack at dusk.” Abelas nodded once and swiftly turned to shout commands at the surrounding elvhen.

Pharen turned toward the elvhen sentinel at her side. “Lethallan, I need you to gather armor and weapons that are not damaged. Ensure Abelas gets everyone together. I will be in a clearing not far from here, and we’ll get back at those shemlen. Understand?” The sentinel nodded before hurrying off to gather the supplies.

Pharen herself began the short trek to the clearing she had made mention of, carefully evading any of the mages she came across by transforming into her fennec form. Once the clearing had been reached, she transformed back into an elf, and began pouring her magic into the altar that stood there, unbroken by time.

**XxXxXxX**

Night fell, and in the woods was an army of ancient elvhen sentinels, her devoted followers, her family. A giant fire roared around the altar, the elves dancing around it, ready for battle. Pharen knew they were ready; their armor gleamed in the moonlight, their swords sharpened to a hard edge, their mana pulsing in time to the rhythmic beats of their hearts.

The goddess smiled, and turned toward the altar that remained still in the center. She strode towards it, causing all the elvhen to stop and watch as she approached it. Still smiling, she held out her hand, palm up, and reached for the softly humming altar. As she did, a large glowing pane of magic began to rise from the center of the font, swirling into the form of a mirror, large fennec statues flanking each side.

“My people, I stand before you as your goddess. The wrongs you have unjustly suffered will be avenged once you walk through this portal; we will be taking them by surprise. A spell of this magnitude must be cast by several loyal followers in addition to myself. A word of caution: do not let your bloodlust consume you. If it does, the darkness will hunt your mind until you are nothing more than a hollow shell of the person you were before. Trust that I have come in earnest to help. We must all stand ready to fight for what is ours, for you have mine and Fen’Harel’s blessings to be swift, be cunning, and let the shem never catch your scent. Forward!”

Pharen dove through the eluvian first, her feet connecting with something very squishy when she came across the other side. Looking down, it was the face of a terrified soldier, her bared foot across his throat. Sneering, she leaned down to him. “ _You should never attempt to take what was not freely given.”_ With that, she dug her heel into him, watching him suffocate. Though the forest around them was only dimly lit by a dying fire, her mana pulsed around her, glowing green then blue, softly humming as the pulses became strong then weak.

She watched as the light faded from the soldier’s eyes, his mouth still open in momentary shock. Replacing her foot on the ground, she began padding softly toward the center of the rather large encampment. Looking through the trees, she could see glints of elvhen eyes reflecting in the firelight, watching for a signal from her.

Pharen raised a hand, a small ball of lightning manifesting within her palm, transforming into a ball filled with lightning, fire, and laced with death. Pushing her palm up to the sky, her other hand came up, and she watched as the magic arced across, leaping and licking across her skin. Fueling it so that it glowed a bright green, she finally released the now large manifestation toward the firepit.

Once the orb hit the embers, the fire roared to life, arcing outwards to the souls that were closest, bringing with it a thick scent of burning flesh, grown men screaming as they ran for their lives. Her eyes glinted madly in the firelight as she watched her brethren sprint from the trees, daggers slicing across throats of the Tevinter army. Swords lay forgotten on the ground at their feet, bows lay broken that would never have another arrow nocked.

Pharen gleamed at the edge of the forest, and she felt true power coursing through her veins, her mana snaking in between the roots and finding some mages yet lived from the spell, suffocating them as her magic pooled in their throats, causing their screams to remain silent. A sound of forgiveness.

The screams finally died down, and her magic was no longer surging forth in an attempt to find soldiers who yet lived. A single pulse of mana told her none survived the surprise attack. Grinning, she turned toward her now-cheering elvhen army.

Fire and lightning and ice were shot up in glimmering streams above their heads, forcing the stars themselves to become a background to the display. “We’ve won!” One of the elvhen shouted. “You will never take Arlathan!” Another yelled from behind her. “We owe it all to you, lethallan.” A hand was placed on her shoulder as Abelas came up next to her.

Pharen turned to him, still smiling. “Indeed we did, Abelas. We may yet live to fight another day. How many casualties?” Abelas allowed a small smile to come to his lips as he breathed, “None, my lady.” Her grin couldn’t have gotten any wider, but it did fade slightly with a resounding _crash_ from the forest.

Looking at each other, they both sprinted off in the direction of the sound but skidded to a halt when a single name was screamed by several very angry voices. “ ** _FEN’HAREL_**!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOD NEWS EVERYONE!!!!  
> I am back on the Fen'Harel / Lavellan train and I WILL be writing a new chapter some time in the next few days! I will also be doing re-writes beginning with Chapter one because I realize there are several non-canonical ideas that are rolling around in my head...not to mention, I now have my IRL Fen'Harel, so it helps xD
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has e-mailed me and let me know they enjoy my work. Updates soon to come!!!


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